


(an example of) the perfect candidate

by brightbolt, NSFWAdora



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Study, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Horde!Adora, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Role Reversal, She-Ra!Catra, Slow Burn, au where the sword chooses catra, their personalities are the same
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:48:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 32,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26448793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightbolt/pseuds/brightbolt, https://archiveofourown.org/users/NSFWAdora/pseuds/NSFWAdora
Summary: Adora reached out a hand. “Come on. I’m gonna take you home.”Catra looked at the hand outstretched towards her. It would be so easy to take it, she thought. She could forget about the sword, about the destiny, about the First Ones.But Adora’s hand trembled a little as it reached out to her, and whether from experience or her newfound connection to magic, Catra could feel the Black Garnet’s energy coming off of it.Memories of the abuse she’d endured her whole life flew past her, horrible ones full of red lightning and cruel laughter and sleepless nights that made her hate the next day. Leaving the Horde behind would be the best thing she ever did, even if it meant losing the only person that ever really cared about her.But she would be free. She could make her own decisions and her own mistakes. She’d never have to tiptoe around Shadow Weaver again. Wouldn’t that make it worth it?Muffled screams came from a few feet away as gunfire sounded in the square, and that helped make her decision for her. If she was going to do this, she’d do it right.“No,” Catra said quietly.Or: in a universe two steps to the left, the Sword of Protection chooses a different wielder.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Bow & Catra (She-Ra), Catra & Glimmer (She-Ra)
Comments: 32
Kudos: 181





	1. the sword

**Author's Note:**

> hi everyone!
> 
> before we begin, i have a few things to mention:
> 
> this au takes place over the course of canon, and this is the first of five chapters - one for each season. this is season one. adora and catra don't switch personalities, but they do switch situations for reasons explained in the story. just about everything in the show still happens, but in different ways.
> 
> adora's design in this fic comes from art created by tumblr user @sim0nade, linked below! it's amazing and i love it. 
> 
> thank you all for reading! kudos and comments are always appreciated, and i'd love to hear everyone's thoughts. without further ado, here is our sexy, sexy horde!adora au. enjoy!
> 
> link to @sim0nade's art: https://sim0nade.tumblr.com/post/623130462326521856/oh-geez-im-kinda-enjoying-the-swapau-ngl-c
> 
> (title from jon bellion’s all time low)

Catra couldn’t sleep that night. 

Adora was snoring gently a few inches away, shifting every so often as she battled towering princesses and an evil, insidious rebellion even in her dreams, but the only thing Catra saw when she closed her eyes was that damn sword. 

Then there was the flashback sequence — though it didn’t feel right to call it that, especially considering none of the memories were hers — and a strange, disembodied voice talking about destiny, fate, and other meaningless words that fell along the same lines. 

Even without the unfamiliar memories and strange voices in her head, Catra hated not being able to sleep. It always made her jittery and snappy in the morning. Years of experience told Catra that Adora would make a pretty good attempt at distracting her, but even that usually wasn’t enough to fix it completely. 

If it had been anything else, Catra figured she’d be able to ignore it. She wasn’t sure why, but that night, she couldn’t. 

Instead, she stole a skiff and made for the woods, avoiding every patrolling guard she saw and hoping against hope that Adora hadn’t noticed her go. It was for the best that she hadn’t woken up, really. Given the shiny new green-and-yellow badge on her belt, she’d probably just lecture her anyway. 

That was what Catra told herself. 

It was better than thinking of the look on Adora’s face every time Shadow Weaver sent a bolt of red lightning into her body when she’d made a mistake in training, and _much_ better than remembering the number of times Adora had been sent to Hordak’s lab as a punishment for something Catra had done.

Adora always came back groggy and disoriented, and Catra swore something about her smelled metallic. 

Another reason to leave her behind tonight, Catra figured. She’d be back before the sun rose anyway, so there was no point in risking both of them. She just had to see it again.

The looming darkness of the Whispering Woods was rapidly approaching, and her grip on the rudder tightened as she increased her speed a little more. Her heart was racing, and leapt into her throat the closer she got for reasons she couldn’t explain.

Roughly three seconds before the skiff zoomed into the woods, Catra realized she didn’t actually remember where the sword was.

She should’ve realized it wouldn’t matter.

Her time with the skiff was short-lived, having found a new home crashed against a tree, and she made the rest of the journey on foot. 

Within minutes, Catra found herself staring again at the thick, gnarled vines wrapped around a blade glowing blue with power that barely seemed contained within it. She could hear a voice calling quietly to her, almost compelling her forward.

She had just begun to obey it when two distinctly _not_ sword-related voices sounded twenty feet away. 

As it turned out, they belonged to a sparkly, teleporting princess and an archer with no concept of functional armor. Neither of them knew how to use a sword. If the ropes they looped sloppily around Catra’s wrists were anything to go by, neither of them knew how to tie a knot, either. 

Catra was really starting to regret leaving her bed when the monster showed up. 

When the commotion started, she shot to her feet to run away when the giant bug attacking them turned toward her. Then, for some reason, the princess threw the sword at her, and that was when she _really_ started to regret things. 

For a second, Catra just held it, and she was starting to wonder what to do when the feeling that had tingled at the edges of her visions surged through her suddenly. 

Memories she didn’t have flew past her eyes, each more confusing than the last, and a robotic voice asked her if she would fight. _This was not supposed to be your fate_ , it told her, _but if you accept it, you will be stronger than you could ever imagine._

As the visions flashed before her again, Catra felt her resolve weakening. She knew the voice couldn’t see her, but she nodded slowly to herself anyway.

 _Will you do it, unfamiliar one?_ The voice came again.

_Will you fight for the honor of Grayskull?_

As if by reflex, Catra’s lips moved in perfect sync with ancient, thousand-year-old words that didn’t belong to her, and then she was three feet taller and surrounded by white-gold light. Half a second later, she felt the presence of something _else_ , something _more_ tear through her veins, sending a searing pain through her that was soothed in a flash as it made space for itself. 

Catra knew without a doubt that this was what magic felt like. 

It felt warm. It hummed inside her like something simmering, ready to be unleashed. For the first time in her life, Catra felt complete.

For a few blissful moments, the bug seemed to calm down. Its antennae flattened, it knelt before her, and a strange sense of peace washed over her.

That feeling lasted about a second before the confusion, shock, and mild terror lurking behind the shiny new power she’d been given kicked in and Catra fell backwards with a graceless yelp. 

Whatever had happened to her faded instantly, leaving her suddenly off-balance and disoriented at the lack of the power that had been in her veins mere seconds before.

Sparkles and Arrow Boy looked about as confused as Catra felt, and were by her side in the blink of an eye. Glittery pink particles now floating in the air around them, and Catra felt nauseous just watching them. “What the _fuck_ was that?” Sparkles spluttered, snatching the sword back from her. “What did you do—”

“Oh, what did _I_ do?” Catra shot back. “I didn’t do anything! You’re the one who threw a _sword_ at me—” 

“Uh, guys?” Arrow Boy cut in. With wide eyes and a shaking finger, pointing behind them, he brought their attention back to the bug. It began to charge at them half a second later, and the only logical thing to do was run away.

Running away led them to the edge of a cliff. Catra stopped short, but neither of her would-be captors seemed to get the memo, and then they were _rolling_ away. 

When they finally made it to the bottom of the hill, in a dusty heap of bruised limbs and adrenaline, they were in front of a tall crystalline structure resembling a castle. 

There were markings on the door, elegantly carved— no, _branded_ symbols on the door, but there was no time to focus on that now. The bug was making headway on them, and she didn’t want to be there for when it arrived.

“Shit,” Sparkles gritted, wincing at a nasty cut on her arm. She nodded towards the door as Arrow Boy shot to his feet to help her up. “Can you get us in there?”

Catra rolled her eyes, looking over at the door with irritation and disdain on her face. “Why would I be able to read that?”

“Just _try_ ,” came the snarled retort, and Catra shook her head in annoyance before frowning in concentration at the door. She really should have been able to predict what happened next, but, in her defense, it had been a long, sleepless night. 

All it took was half a second for the runes to transform from meaningless lines and circles to words that pricked at the edges of Catra’s mind. She could practically _see_ it happening, could feel her brain recognize them slowly, and then all at once. 

The rune on the door ahead of them, the one she knew without knowing to be the password, read—

“Eternia,” Catra breathed, and the rumbling of millennia-old machinery proved her right. 

With a half-amazed, half-uneasy smile, she turned around to where the princess and her archer were gaping. “Are you coming inside, or what?”

Moments after that, Catra spoke the name of her otherself. 

_She-Ra._ It was an unfamiliar, strange word that felt a little wrong coming out of her mouth, but it was hers now. Then the interior of the castle fell apart around them, and she decided to deal with it later.

Catra wasn’t sure how far inside the crystal structure they’d gotten, but she knew it couldn’t have been much. 

Maybe some of it was left standing, but after Sparkles — whose real name, she had learned, was _Glimmer_ , as if there was any difference between the two — teleported them fifty feet above the treetops, she hadn’t given it another thought. 

She and Arrow Boy — aptly named Bow, because everyone in the Rebellion just _had_ to have fitting, witty names, didn’t they? — managed alright thanks to a well-timed net arrow he’d shot at a few of the branches, but Glimmer had passed out shortly after. 

She woke up groggy and a little testy, which Catra figured she probably had a right to be. “Why are you stillhere?” Glimmer asked, wincing as movement pulled at the cut on her arm. “We’re not exactly professional captors. You could have left at any time.” She narrowed her eyes a little, but it was more out of pain than suspicion. “Why didn’t you?”

Catra realized she didn’t quite have an answer for that, but she thought back to the voice in her head. 

_You will be stronger than you ever imagined_. 

“I dunno,” Catra shrugged, doing her best to seem unflappable. “You guys looked like you needed some help,” She said airily, pretending to examine her claws. “What can I say? I’m a giver.” She finished it with a smirk, and hoped that was enough to maintain her facade.

“Right,” Glimmer said, rolling her eyes. “So it has nothing to do with the fact that you turned into an ancient magical being named She-Ra for no reason?”

Bow piped up unhelpfully from where he was wrapping Glimmer’s wound in a few neat layers of gauze. “Don’t forget learning how to read an entire language— an entire _dead_ language, might I add, in the span of three seconds.”

Catra’s eye twitched. “Fine. Maybe— _maybe_ ,” She repeated, holding a finger up at Glimmer’s smug look, “I think it’s a little weird. That doesn’t mean I’m staying forever, or—or joining your stupid little Rebellion—”

“Oh, trust me, we don’t want you there,” Glimmer interrupted harshly. Her face fell into a glare in a split second. “Do you really think we’re stupid enough to let a Horde soldier into our ranks?” She shook her head, and Catra couldn’t help the bruise of hurt that flared up inside her at the coldness of her tone. 

Bow frowned a little, and put a hand on her arm. “Easy, Glimmer. She’s done nothing but help us.”

Glimmer’s jaw tightened as she looked at them before she jerked away. “Whatever,” She said, shaking her head. “There’s a village a few miles away. We can catch a ride back to Bright Moon from there.” She cast a sideways look back at Catra. “My mother will deal with her.”

*** * ***

When Adora woke up, already feeling a dull sort of pain throbbing somewhere behind her head, she was cold. 

That was her first clue that something was wrong. 

She opened her eyes, squinting at the brightness of the light buzzing above her, and saw rumpled sheets and no Catra. 

“Shit,” She mumbled, blinking sleep away from her vision as quickly as possible. Adora took in unfamiliar walls and a bed that was far bigger than the cadet bunks she had grown accustomed to and realized she was in her new room. Being Force Captain gave her that luxury, as she and Catra had found out last night. 

Now Adora was alone, and that was never a good thing. 

She had learned early on that there was strength in numbers. Being together with Catra always made her feel safer, more powerful in a way that nothing else could. 

Mostly, it was because it was hard for anyone to hurt her when there was someone else there to see. It was why Shadow Weaver always had her come to her chambers alone, and why Hordak scheduled their monthly ‘visits’ when he knew no one would be around her. 

Adora had never told Catra about them, and doubted very much that she ever would, but it didn’t stop her from feeling guilty about keeping all the tests and experiments they ran a secret from her. 

The day moved slowly and hesitantly without Catra there, and after checking all of their usual haunts for any sign of her and finding none, Adora was beginning to worry. 

That was bad enough. 

When Shadow Weaver found out, it got much, much worse. 

Adora had been pretending to make her rounds, saluting guards every so often, when a cadet ran up to her and said Shadow Weaver wanted to see her. Adora’s stomach fell through her and spilled out onto the floor, but she managed to keep her expression neutral.

The instant she stepped into Shadow Weaver’s room, she felt the crackling, all-too-familiar sting of the Black Garnet’s magic lock her in place in the entryway. “Force Captain,” Shadow Weaver said smoothly, gliding over to her. “May I have a word?”

Adora tried to swallow and nod, but her body wouldn’t respond to the commands she gave it. Her lungs were starting to burn from the lack of oxygen. 

Shadow Weaver took this as a sign to continue, and began to circle her. “We’re missing a cadet,” She said. The holes of her mask seemed to bore into Adora’s back as she spoke. “Your Catra. Where is she?”

The magic released its hold on her abruptly, and Adora heaved in a breath as her legs gave out underneath her and she collapsed in a heap. Through a mix of gasping breaths and coughs, Adora managed, “I-I don’t know. I woke up and she was gone.”

“Oh, Adora.” Shadow Weaver let out a sigh. “You,” She said, putting a long, clawed finger on the underside of Adora’s chin to tip her face up, “are the youngest Force Captain in the history of the Horde. I know you can do better than that.”

“I—” Adora scoured her memories, trying to figure out anywhere Catra might have gone. She remembered a clearing in the woods and how weird the expression on Catra’s face had been when she saw it. “The—the woods,” She said. “There’s something there she wanted. I— maybe she—”

Shadow Weaver interrupted her with a raised hand. “So you _do_ know,” She said. “Don’t lie to me again.”

Adora swallowed thickly, feeling her heart pounding. “Y-Yes, Shadow Weaver. I— you’re right. I’m sorry—”

“I know you are,” Shadow Weaver said almost sweetly. “Get up. You may not know where Catra is, but I do.”

Adora frowned. She considered asking what the point of asking her was if Shadow Weaver already knew the answer, but she wasn’t interested in being hurt any more than she already had been. “How?”

“A tracking spell,” Shadow Weaver said, as though it was obvious. She pointed to a blinking dot on the map ahead of her. “You were right. She’s somewhere in the Whispering Woods.” 

The momentary sense of satisfaction Adora felt was undermined instantly by the next words out of Shadow Weaver’s mouth. “According to this map, she’s within the rebel fortress of Thaymor,” She said, watching Adora’s back stiffen at the words.

Adora knew that name. Her mission, as given to her not twelve hours before by Shadow Weaver, was to destroy it. “Thaymor,” She murmured, frowning in concentration. “They must have taken her captive.” She looked over and said, “I’ll gather a battalion, and we’ll leave as soon as we can.”

Shadow Weaver nodded. “Don’t fail me again, Force Captain.” The glare on her mask grew somehow more pronounced. “Or you’ll take Catra’s punishment in her place.”

It wouldn’t be anywhere close to the first time it had happened, but something told her this time would be worse. She cast her eyes downward and nodded. “This is just a misunderstanding,” Adora said, unsure of which one of them she was trying to convince. “I promise. She’d never leave the Horde.”

“I hope that’s true,” Shadow Weaver said, turning to face her fully. “For your sake.”

*** * ***

The village, as it turned out, was having a party when they arrived. 

Catra had no idea what a party _was_ until Bow said the word, but it didn’t take her long to realize she liked it. 

For one, the food was excellent. She was used to ration bars, protein drinks, and gritty water, so the first bite of real, proper, _cooked_ food she had was overwhelming. 

Catra didn’t have much of a sweet tooth, but she loved the warmth of the fresh-made treats that everyone and all of their relatives seemed to be giving out. She saw kids running around and laughing, and memories of growing up with Adora flooded her so quickly all she could do was smile to herself. 

She caught Glimmer watching her a few times throughout the morning, and figured she had a right to. Of course, all Glimmer saw was Catra getting Bow’s cotton candy stuck in her hair, listening to one of the adults in the village tell a story to a group of wide-eyed kids, and tapping her foot along to the music in the square, but Catra didn’t blame her for being cautious.

When the Horde came, it felt like something inside Catra shattered. 

She was no idiot. She knew what they did wasn’t nearly as simple or as noble as cadet training made it seem. But there was something about _seeing_ it that made her nauseous. 

Buildings she had seen intact moments before now lay in ruins, and the ash and smoke in the air choked her as she watched the village burn in horror.

When Glimmer said the name of the village offhandedly, everything clicked into place in the worst way imaginable. “Fuck,” Catra breathed. “Wait, _this_ is Thaymor?”

Glimmer’s eyes snapped over to her. “Hang on. Did you know about this?”

“No! I— well, _yeah_ , but I thought it was supposed to be some fortress—” Catra shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. If this is Thaymor, I know who’s in charge of the mission. I’m gonna talk to her.” She pointed a finger at both of them. “Don’t let any of the civilians get killed.”

Bow frowned. “There’s an escape route through the forest that most of them have taken.”

Catra nodded. “You guys should follow them.” 

She watched confusion crack through the glare on Glimmer’s face. “What about you?”

“Like I said,” Catra shrugged. “I’m gonna talk to them.”

 _Them_ turned out to be Adora, and that hurt more than anything else. She hopped out of the cockpit of a tank, running over to envelop Catra in a massive, tight hug. 

“What the hell were you thinking sneaking out like that? I was worried about you, you know,” Adora mumbled into her shoulder. 

It was nothing they hadn’t done a thousand times before, but something about the situation made Catra a little uneasy. She pulled away a little. “I’m fine,” Catra said lightly. “Listen, Adora, you need to call off the attack, like, _now_.”

Adora frowned a little. “Why would I do that?”

“Well, in case you haven’t _noticed_ , this isn’t exactly a castle,” Catra said, matching her frown. She made a sweeping motion with her arm, watching Adora’s eyes flick around the now-burning town. “The people that live here didn’t do anything wrong. Call your soldiers off.”

As Adora’s gaze turned back to her, confused silvery-blue eyes pierced her own. “Catra, that sounds an awful lot like—like treason—” She cut herself off with a shake of her head. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. You’re back, and that’s the most important thing.” Adora reached out a hand. “Come on. I’m gonna take you home.”

Catra looked at the hand outstretched towards her. It would be so easy to take it, she thought. She could forget about the sword, about the destiny, about the First Ones. 

But Adora’s hand trembled a little as it reached out to her, and whether from experience or her newfound connection to magic, Catra could _feel_ the Black Garnet’s energy coming off of it. 

Memories of the abuse she’d endured her whole life flew past her, horrible ones full of red lightning and cruel laughter and sleepless nights that made her hate the next day. Leaving the Horde behind would be the best thing she ever did, even if it meant losing the only person that ever really cared about her. 

Catra would be rudderless, floating alone in an ocean so vast she could barely comprehend it.

But she would be free. She could make her own decisions and her own mistakes. She’d never have to tiptoe around Shadow Weaver again. Wouldn’t that make it worth it?

Muffled screams came from a few feet away as gunfire sounded in the square, and that helped make her decision for her. If she was going to do this, she’d do it right. 

“No,” Catra said quietly.

“What do you mean, _no_?” Adora asked, more confused than angry. “I— come on, Catra. If you don’t come back, I’m the one that’s going to deal with the fallout. You know how Shadow Weaver gets.” There was an implication there that almost made Catra reconsider. 

Almost. 

“I mean,” Catra said, shaking her head to refocus, “I’m not going back to the Horde. I’m staying here.”

Adora opened her mouth dumbly, and her expression looked as though she’d been stung by something painful. “You’re gonna leave? Just like that?”

“I have to,” Catra said. “Look at this, Adora. This—” She jabbed a finger at a burning house. “This is what the Horde is capable of. This is what we were _trained_ to do.” She shook her head. “I don’t want to do that.” She reached out and put a hand on Adora’s. “Come with me. You don’t have to do it either.”

Adora stared at where their hands were touching. “What you’re suggesting,” She said in a low, hollow voice, “is treason.” She shook her head jerkily. “I— Catra, I’m sorry, but I can’t abandon the Horde like that.” Adora moved her hand away slowly. 

Catra’s jaw clenched as tears filled her eyes unbidden. “I should’ve known. You’ve always been a coward,” She spat.

“Better than a traitor,” Adora said quietly. 

Both of them were spared any further response by Bow riding up on the weirdest-looking creature Catra had ever seen and shooting another one of his net arrows at Adora. It caught her off guard, of course, and she let out a surprised yelp as Bow hoisted Catra up onto the horse. 

“Why the fuck are you still here?” Catra asked, staring at him wide-eyed. “And where’s Sparkles? I thought I told you guys—”

“You’re helping us, right? We weren’t about to leave you behind,” Bow said. He turned around to give her a little grin that faded as he continued, “And Glimmer’s a little out of commission,”

Catra frowned, holding on a little tighter as she dodged a blast of green energy that got a little _too_ close to them. “What do you mean, _out of commission_?”

Bow sighed, notching an arrow and sending it flying over to a soldier running towards them. It exploded in a burst of sticky-looking goop, and Catra winced imagining what it would feel like. “She’s used up a lot of her powers. She has to recharge.”

“She has to recharge her powers?” Catra asked, unable to help the snide tone that crept into her voice. “That’s embarrassing.”

Bow flashed her an exasperated look. “It’s pretty normal for princesses. Anyway, she has something for you, so be nice.”

 _Something_ turned out to be the sword.

When Catra realized what was happening, her eyes flew wide, and she couldn’t help but splutter, “Why? What makes you think you can trust me?”

Glimmer shook her head. “I— I don’t know. I guess—” She let out a short puff of breath. “You remind me of myself, and… I’d want someone to give me another chance.” She held out the handle for Catra to take. “And we could _really_ use She-Ra right now.” 

Even as a few faceless Horde soldiers rounded the corner and aimed their guns at the two of them, there was a sense of calm that washed over Catra. She held the sword in her hands for what felt like the first time, and as she took a deep breath and repeated the ancient words she’d first heard in the woods, she felt magic pour back into her veins. 

The fight that followed — if you could call it that — was a blur. She remembered strength flowing through her, tanks exploding, and sending her sword deep into the earth for a seismic wave of energy that knocked out a whole squadron of soldiers. 

Whether it was a trance or a new state of power, She-Ra’s glow faded soon after that. Catra couldn’t help but transform back into herself, dropping to a knee out of sudden, uncontrollable exhaustion with her hand on the sword’s hilt as she gasped for air. 

And there, through smoke and ash, stood Adora, looking at her like she was a stranger.

As much as she tried — and she did — Catra would never be able to forget the fear in her eyes as she staggered backwards, face contorting between betrayal, fear, and anger as she gave the order to retreat. 

It wasn’t so much a victory as it was a stalemate, and she figured the people of Thaymor would need a new home until they could rebuild their village. 

She was still thinking about the way Adora had turned her back on her as she left, muscles tensed and clenched fists shaking, when Bow and Glimmer practically tackled her into the dirt. 

Out of reflex, she let out a hiss of surprise, but it didn’t seem to deter them. Bow had a huge, sunny smile on his face. “That was _amazing_ , Catra!”

Glimmer was grinning at her, too, and when she put a hand on her arm, Catra resisted the temptation to shake it off. “You turned against them,” She said.

“Yeah,” Catra said, letting herself be amazed for a moment at what she’d done. The magnitude hit her suddenly, and she blinked dumbly. “Shit. I guess I did.”

“I, um,” Glimmer started hesitantly, “I know I said earlier that the Rebellion didn’t want any Horde scum, but if you’re serious about leaving them… I think we can make an exception.”

Catra just stared at her for a second trying to think about what that would mean before realizing she was too tired to care. “You know what?” She said. “Yeah. Fuck it.” A lopsided grin crept over her face. “Make me a rebel.”

“Seriously?” Glimmer asked, nervousness melting away as a smile widened on her face.

“Why not?” Catra shrugged. “It’s not like I have anywhere else to go. You guys get a magical warrior, and I get to learn how to control this,” She said, tapping the sword a few times. “We all get what we want.” 

*** * ***

The walk back to Bright Moon was slow, and more than a little tiring, but it was redeemed in full when Catra saw the palace for the first time.

The Horde had always painted Rebel strongholds as overflowing with evil and uncontrollable, wild magic, but all Catra could think when she saw the city, the lake, the runestone, and the nature that surrounded it all was how _beautiful_ it was.

Glimmer had told her in no uncertain terms that her mom would love her — specifically, she would love _She-Ra_ , which stung Catra in a way she couldn’t explain, rather than a former Horde soldier — which meant she had to sneak in the back way and try to transform.

The back way meant going up a _cliff_ , apparently, and her arms had been shaking a little by the time she made it into Glimmer’s bedroom window. 

To make matters worse, in her attempts to summon She-Ra, she’d accidentally shot a bolt of _something_ at a stray cat, and it had turned into a glowing panther almost before her eyes. He’d run off into the town nearby, she’d chased after him to try and rectify the situation, and the townspeople had seen the Horde symbol on her belt. 

Resentment bubbled up in Catra early at the way the people of Bright Moon had run her out at the sight of it, and though, on some level, she understood why, it didn’t change the fact that she felt even more alone than before. 

Catra ended up in the woods again, and was starting to wonder if she’d made the wrong decision leaving when she heard a voice humming nearby. 

She kept herself hidden behind a bush and moved closer to it, her head already spinning with thoughts of a stray Horde soldier — or, worse, _Adora_ — being there to greet her. 

Instead, she saw a ramshackle hut and an old woman waving a stick around and muttering to herself. Catra couldn’t help the confused frown she wore, and it only deepened when the woman called out, in an unfamiliar accent, “I know you’re there, dearie! Come inside! You’re late!”

Catra blinked, and didn’t move. The woman let out a huff. “Hurry up! I don’t have all day!”

Hesitantly, Catra stood up, and walked over cautiously until she was in the woman’s line of sight. Her hand was tight on the sword’s hilt where it sat over her shoulder. “Who are you?”

“Madame Razz,” She said, as if it was obvious. “You know me, Mara, dearie. Come in,” She said with a wide grin. “We’re going berry-picking.”

Without another word, Razz turned and shuffled back into her hut, and Catra felt like she had no choice but to follow her in. It was a small room, with a large oven in one corner and hastily, messily arranged shelves covering nearly every wall. Some had food. Some had random pieces of technology, including a Horde soldier’s helmet. She found it hard to look away from.

Through the deeply confused haze in her brain, all Catra could think to say was, “Um, my name isn’t Mara. I— It’s Catra.”

Razz stopped short with her back to her. “Catra?”

“Yeah,” She said carefully. “How did you know I’d come?”

“Catra,” Razz repeated. She shook her head a little before whipping back around so suddenly it made Catra jump a little. Her eyes were narrowed in suspicion and something else. If Catra had been thinking straight, she would have recognized it as surprise. “I haven’t seen you before,” Razz said. “Not like this.”

“Like this?” Catra frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Razz just stared at her for a moment before turning back toward her shelves. She started humming again, a frantic tune with only half a melody. “Nothing, dearie. Forgive an old woman her rambling.” She glanced back. “But since you have the sword…” She paused, hands stilling for a moment. “It’ll be harder for you.”

“Harder for—” Catra let out a frustrated exhale. “I’m getting sick of riddles.” Something flickered in her mind, and she turned back to her more in confusion and surprise than frustration. “Wait, how do you know about the sword?”

Razz let out a short laugh. “The sword?” She turned around. “Oh, you _do_ have it! You look so much like my Mara, you know. She used to carry it just like that.”

Catra’s eyes widened. “There was another one? Was—was Mara another She-Ra?”

Razz didn’t answer, opting instead to frown and dig around a chest overflowing with what looked like a jumble of First Ones tech, recent tech, and cobwebs. Inexplicably, she pulled out a basket.

The idea of there being a history and of people who knew what was happening to her was all Catra could think about. There _had_ to be a way to learn more. “Can I talk to her?”

“Oh, no,” Razz shook her head. “No. That was a long time ago.”

“Okay, well, is there anyone else who’d know?”

Again, Razz didn’t answer her, and her humming grew louder. 

Catra groaned. The combination of the lack of sleep and the exhaustion of the last day were starting to get to her. “Just— give me a straight answer, Razz. What do I do?”

“What can any of us do?” Razz replied lightly, snatching a wicker basket off of a table nearby. “Oh!” She exclaimed, loud enough to make Catra jump. “That’s right!” She turned back to Catra, who foolishly let herself hope for a clear answer. 

Instead, Razz grinned at her. “We’re picking berries.”

Catra figured that at this point she should’ve known that _picking berries_ meant a lot more than picking berries. This was _especially_ true considering that the place Razz liked to pick them just so happened to be a ruin identical to the one Catra, Bow, and Glimmer had almost died in earlier that day. 

When Razz hit a few well-placed runes on her way up to pick berries, it was bathed in glowing artificial light, and Catra looked up and saw stars in the sky for the first time in her life. They were holographic, of course, but it didn’t make a difference to her.

“What is this?” She whispered, eyes wide as they took in the sight above her. “What— how—”

Razz had a fond expression on her face looking up at them. “Mara and I used to come here to watch the stars.” The look on her face twitched, making way for a thoughtful sort of confusion. “They’re not here anymore.”

“What happened to them?” Catra asked quietly. 

Razz shrugged. “You’ll have to find out.”

They left soon after, and Catra felt a mix of panic, fear, and nausea rising inside her at the pure, overwhelming nature of all that had happened. 

When they made it to the edge of the woods, in the space between everything Catra had left behind and everything ahead of her, Razz told her about the Princess Alliance. 

Catra knew the logical thing to do would be to fight to reassemble the Alliance if the Horde was ever going to be defeated, but something in her was torn. This sounded like an awful lot of work to do for a group of people that seemed to despise her. 

When she voiced the sentiment to Razz, the old woman smiled. “Do they know you, dearie?”

Catra frowned. “How could they possibly know me?”

“Exactly,” Razz said, she put a hand on Catra’s shoulder. “I told you this would be a hard path for you, didn’t I?” When Catra nodded, she smiled. “It only gets easier if you let it.”

Maybe it was the gentleness of her tone, the exhaustion, or the sheer volume of emotions Catra had been holding back all day, but the next words out of her mouth didn’t have her normal snark. Instead, they were quiet, and had an undercurrent of vulnerability so strong it surprised her. “Did I do the right thing, Razz?”

Razz smiled, and offered her a berry. “What makes you think I know?” Catra let out a small chuckle despite herself. “The only one who can decide that is you. Look around you,” She said. Catra noticed for the first time the abandoned tanks and skiffs bearing the blood-red symbol of the Horde. “What do _you_ think?”

Catra thought the Horde was evil, and had been for some time. She thought the ideals of the Rebellion were a little too cheery for her taste, but that they wanted a better future for their people. And as she looked down at the sword in her hand and saw her reflection in the runestone, she thought that maybe she could be a part of that better future. 

Then, she heard the cry of a freshly-magical panther from a Horde outpost nearby, and made up her mind. 

With Razz’s help, she got him back after transforming into She-Ra like it was the most natural thing in the world, and made her way to Bright Moon on his back. 

He seemed to know exactly what she needed almost before she did, and the rippling bluish-purple of his fur reminded her of the blade of her sword. 

Minutes later, She-Ra strode through the gates of Bright Moon into the throne room. 

Then Angella watched Catra transform back into herself, and didn’t bother to hide her shock at the red symbol hanging around her waist. She shot to her feet as the guards began to mobilize, but Glimmer and Bow rushed to her side and vouched for her with a ferocity she’d only ever seen in Adora. 

Angella thought for a moment before she looked back at Catra. “I know the legend of the warrior the First Ones called She-Ra,” She murmured. “They said she would return to us in our hour of greatest need.”

“Well, here I am,” Catra said. “Surprise.”

Angella fought a smile. “Do you pledge yourself to fight for the Rebellion?”

“I do.” There was a finality in Catra’s voice that surprised her. She didn’t kneel, but she offered up the hilt of her sword while she said it, and that seemed to be enough.

Angella nodded. “Then rise, She-Ra,” She said, the hint of a smile playing at her lips. “Princess of Power.”

*** * ***

Parts of Adora’s face and torso still hurt from what Shadow Weaver had done to her after coming home, but she figured it could’ve been worse. 

If she was being honest, it was the first thing she’d really _felt_ since Catra had left her. The fact that it was pain was unfortunate, true, but it was better than feeling numb.

When Adora came back to the Fright Zone after Thaymor, her head hung low in defeat and a horrible, nauseous kind of anticipation. Part of her had almost been surprised to make it out of the Black Garnet chamber alive. 

She should’ve known better. If Catra was there, she would have rolled her eyes and said something about her always being Shadow Weaver’s favorite. 

Adora could almost hear her voice saying it: _she’d never kill you for fucking up, dummy. I mean, she’d_ maim _you and make you pay for it, yeah, but come on. We both know you’re too valuable for her to let go._

After Shadow Weaver was finished with her, she took her to Hordak for what she called ‘disciplinary action’, but all he did was look her up and down and let out a small hum. 

“The loss is a disappointment, to be sure. But you showed promise, Force Captain. Once you’re back in... fighting condition,” He said, eyes lingering on the side of her face Shadow Weaver’s first bolt had struck, “I’ll have you back out in the field.”

A surprised hiss from Shadow Weaver told Adora that wasn’t what she’d wanted to hear. “What? Lord Hordak, you can’t possibly—”

Glowing red eyes flicked over to meet hers, effectively silencing her before he turned back to Adora. “No officers were lost. The only defector was a cadet— Catra, was it not?” At Shadow Weaver’s reluctant nod, he continued, “I believe you’ve called her, in your own words, _nothing but a disappointment_.” 

Adora winced. Her voice came out a little hoarse when she spoke. “Lord Hordak, she’s more than that. I-I can bring her home—”

Hordak shook his head. “No. I will not risk the lives of our soldiers for one cadet. Do you understand?” Adora’s jaw clenched, but she nodded regardless. “Good. Dismissed, Force Captain.”

As soon as they were out of his chambers, Shadow Weaver turned to Adora. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

Adora swallowed down a spark of fear at the malice in her voice. “What?”

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” Shadow Weaver repeated. “About how you lost Catra. You know something.”

That... was true. 

Adora hadn’t mentioned the sword, or the magical being that Catra had somehow become in the blink of an eye. She didn’t mention the glowing light that surrounded her, or the way the gold of her armor and the blue of her sword seemed to match the color of her eyes perfectly, or how quickly she’d taken out the artillery Adora had been commanding.

Adora was loyal to the Horde, yes. But it was hard to betray someone you cared about, even when they did it first. 

So she swallowed her fear and her pain and did her best to look Shadow Weaver in the eyes when she spoke. “No,” Adora said. “No, I-I’ve told you everything I know.”

Shadow Weaver put a deceptively gentle hand on the unmarred side of her face. “And yet you failed me anyway.” She murmured, and the backhandedness of her tone made Adora’s skin crawl.

Her jaw pulsed under the hand covering it. “It won’t happen again. I-I’m going to be better next time, I promise.”

Shadow Weaver nodded. “Good. As of this moment, your sole objective is to return Catra to me.”

Adora frowned. “But Lord Hordak said—”

“I _know_ what Hordak said,” Shadow Weaver interrupted harshly, watching Adora flinch at the sound. “But I’ve given you your mission. Are you going to turn traitor too, Force Captain? Or are you going to obey a direct order from your commanding officer?”

Adora was quiet for a moment. She knew something about this wasn’t right, and that Catra had been the one to betray them first, but when the hurt and anger faded, all Adora wanted was to see her again. 

It was hard enough going through the Horde withher there. The idea of continuing _without_ her was unimaginable. 

Adora closed her eyes. “Yes, Shadow Weaver,” She said, eyes flicking open to meet the hard stare of the mask in front of her. “When do we leave?”

*** * ***

Reassembling the Princess Alliance was harder than Catra expected. 

She knew, realistically, that it wasn’t going to be easy, and that was fine. She had accepted it. But it didn’t help that she barely knew what she was doing in terms of She-Ra. 

Perfuma, who was the first Princess other than Glimmer that Catra met, alternated between being endearing and getting on her nerves. But she was loyal, and came to help them when Bow, Glimmer, and Catra thought it’d be a good idea to tackle a whole Horde base on their own. 

They’d almost made it, too. If it hadn’t been for that damn change in the Horde’s password system, they’d have pulled it off. 

It didn’t matter in the end — Perfuma had helped them, they’d had a touching moment and a feast afterwards, and they’d moved on. 

Then there was Mermista. She was _much_ more Catra’s speed, and had been the most fun to talk to out of everyone Catra knew at this point. 

They’d worked well together, which was a plus. When Catra had figured out how to repair the Sea Gate — in a way that was, in her own words, _super badass_ — Mermista had actually cracked a smile. It was a little lopsided, and more resembled a smirk, but the thanks she gave and the loyalty she pledged was genuine. 

Catra left feeling prouder of herself, her friends, and her work than she ever had. 

Entrapta was a harder nut to crack. 

For one, the lab she worked in reminded Catra eerily of Hordak’s, and she found herself getting more and more uneasy the longer they spent in Dryl. Entrapta didn’t seem quite as interested in the _defeating-the-Horde_ aspect of joining the Alliance as she did the _working-with-Alliance-technology_ part, but she accepted their offer. Catra figured that was enough.

And Netossa and Spinnerella seemed nice, even if she wasn’t… _completely_ sure what they did other than cuddle and make heart eyes at each other during meetings. 

Judging from their names, as well as the fact that everyone she’d met seemed to love puns about some aspect of their powers, she assumed it was something to do with nets and spinning. 

Meeting Princesses was all well and good, but Catra always thought of herself as separate from them. This was not an Alliance she considered herself a part of. She was just the one helping recreate it.

So when she got an invitation to something called _Princess Prom_ , she was more than a little confused. 

Glimmer — who seemed weirdly ecstatic at the prospect of going to it — reminded her that because of the sword and her connection to the runestone, Catra was a Princess too. 

That wasn’t really something she wanted to think about, but that wasn’t the worst of it. To make matters worse, there were about twelve feet of rules to memorize. 

Catra stared blankly at the now-unrolled parchment covering the floor of her room. The sight of so much content to memorize reminded her of her days back in the academic parts of her training in the Horde, and she wondered instantly what Adora would say if—

_No._

Catra shook her head physically, trying to dislodge the idea from her mind. 

Adora made her choice. They were enemies now. It didn’t matter what she would say, and it didn’t matter what jokes she would crack or what charts she’d start making on the spot.

It _also_ didn’t matter that she was still the first thing Catra thought about when she woke up and the last thing before she went to sleep. They were on different sides of this war. The sooner Catra accepted that, the better.

Glimmer told her that Frosta — who Catra assumed had powers relating to ice — was hosting the party this year. She was one of the last neutral Princesses remaining, which meant her membership in the Alliance was crucial. 

Catra decided to focus on that instead of the rules. 

She skimmed the list, found a suitable outfit to wear — the Bright Moon tailors weren’t _super_ excited about putting her in black and red, but the fact that she was able to transform into an eight-foot-tall warrior princess had convinced them — and she was feeling confident about it.

She’d almost pushed the thought of Adora from her mind when she saw her again for the first time in months.

Adora had been noticeably absent from the Horde’s activities, even though another Force Captain — something with an _S_ , Catra thought — had been there a few times. 

The moment she saw her again, Catra understood why. 

There was a splotchy, dark red scar covering almost the entirety of the left side of her face. Catra could see that part of it traveled down her neck, dipping down below the red tuxedo and the stiff collar of the dress shirt she wore. 

The fact that Catra was newly attuned to magic meant she could feel energy crackling out of it. Each person’s magic had a feeling, she noticed. 

Glimmer’s felt bright and a little tingly, Perfuma’s was warm and always made her feel more refreshed, and Mermista’s smelled of rain and salt water.

The magic radiating off of Adora was cold and detached, and Catra recognized it instantly as Shadow Weaver.

The rest of Adora was in less-than-perfect shape, too. There were bags under her eyes that Catra had never seen before, and the expression on her face was hard and stoic. Her face looked thinner, which Catra knew from years of experience meant she’d been focusing too hard on her work and not hard enough on things like eating or sleeping.

And yet after months apart and battle lines drawn between them, the sight of her still took Catra’s breath away. 

She wasn’t the only one, either. Catra froze at the sight of Adora, but the expression on Adora’s face melted into a soft, only half-surprised smile.

There was another person with her, Catra realized dimly. She looked at the arm— the _claw_ linked with Adora’s arm to see the other Force Captain, who wore a dress that matched the red and black of Adora’s suit jacket and pants. 

“Hey, Catra,” Adora said, voice coming out lower than Catra was expecting. She blamed the shiver that ran down her spine on the cold. “I didn’t know if you’d show up.”

Catra couldn’t speak past the lump in her throat for a second, but she recovered quickly. “Yeah, well, in case you haven’t heard, I’m a Princess now.” She crossed her arms. “Why are you here, Adora?”

“I’m Scorpia’s plus one,” Adora replied easily. She smiled at her. “Did you know she’s a Princess, too?”

Scorpia blushed a little. “Heh. Guilty as charged,” She said, shrugging as Adora gave her an attentive, encouraging smile. “The Black Garnet was my family’s runestone.”

Catra’s eyes flicked between them, watching the quick interaction. She blinked once, then twice. 

There was an odd, burning feeling that flared up at the sight of Adora’s soft smile directed at Scorpia, and Catra couldn’t help but let her eyes linger on where their arms were joined as she said, “Whatever. This is neutral ground, so I _swear_ , if you guys are planning anything—”

“Actually, I-I kind of just… wanted to talk to you,” Adora interrupted. Catra’s words died in her throat as Adora lifted a hand to scratch awkwardly at the back of her neck.

“You-- what?”

“I wanna talk,” Adora said. “We haven’t gotten to in a while, and since we’re not allowed to fight… I dunno. I just figured now would be the best chance I had.”

Catra just stared at her, barely believing the words she was hearing. 

Looking between them with raised eyebrows, Scorpia cleared her throat. “Wow. Um, looks like you two have some catching up to do,” She said. “I’ll be over there if you need me.” After a quick smile and nod from Adora, Scorpia disentangled herself gently from Adora’s arm and left the two of them alone. 

Watching her go, Adora seemed to remember something, if the sudden raise of her eyebrows was anything to go by. Her hand flew to the inside of her jacket and dug around there for a moment before she pulled out a neatly-wrapped rectangle and handed it over. 

Catra took it warily, suddenly _very_ aware of Glimmer watching the interaction from the corner, and half-expected to find a jewelry box underneath the layer of folded paper.

Instead, she found a perfectly intact grey ration bar. 

“Um. I know they’re your favorite,” Adora explained. “I just thought… maybe you’d want something familiar.” She scratched the back of her head awkwardly. “I’m sure you’ve had a better food since leaving the Horde, but—”

“No, I-I get it,” Catra said quietly. For some reason, the sight of it almost brought her to tears. Her jaw tightened as she blinked them away. “Thank you.”

Catra was still staring at the bar in her hands when Glimmer came over with narrowed eyes. “What’s going on?” She asked, trying and failing to avoid staring at the new mark on Adora’s face. “You’re with the Horde, aren’t you?” The air around her started to crackle as anger and suspicion entered her voice, and Catra wondered if she imagined the way Adora’s jaw tensed.

Adora put her hands up in surrender. “We’re just here for prom,” She said. “The rules are pretty clear, right? No conflict?”

Glimmer scoffed. “As if the Horde has ever followed our rules.”

“Well, we’re starting tonight,” Adora said easily. “Alright? You’re Glimmer, right?” She offered a hand for her to shake. “Force Captain Adora.”

Glimmer’s eyes stayed narrow. “I know _exactly_ who you are. You carried out the assault on Thaymor.” Catra felt a hand rest firm and protective on her shoulder and watched Adora’s eyes track the movement and linger there. “The Rebellion has heard all about you.”

A flash of something — _hurt_ , if Catra was reading it right — appeared on Adora’s face as quickly as it left, and she gave them a tight smile. “Right.” She looked at Catra again. “It, um. It was good to see you,” She said quietly. “I’ll leave you guys alone.” With one last nod, she left, and walked over to where Scorpia was talking with a group of people on the other side of the room. 

Glimmer’s hand relaxed a little on Catra’s shoulder as she watched her go. “I don’t trust her,” She muttered, giving Adora a hard stare as she walked away. “I think everything she said was total bullshit.”

Catra’s head was spinning, and she wished briefly that the Kingdom of Snows had sprung for an open bar when planning the party. “Maybe, yeah.” She cleared her throat, still staring at the ration bar in her hands. 

“What’s that?” Glimmer asked, frowning at it. “It looks gross.”

Catra shook her head a little. “Nothing,” She said quietly. “Just a memory.”

The night wore on, with Catra finding a bit of distraction in Glimmer’s attempts to get Bow back from Perfuma, until the first dance was announced. 

Bow and Perfuma approached the floor together, but Glimmer was nowhere to be found. 

Someone cleared their throat behind her, and Catra turned to see Adora with a hand outstretched. “May I?” Adora asked.

Catra swallowed hard before tentatively reaching out to put her hand in the one offered to her. “Just one,” She said. “Then we’re back to being enemies.”

Adora let out a quiet laugh before pulling Catra close to her. Their fronts were only a few inches apart, and Catra could feel the heat radiating off of her. “Whatever you say, Catra.”

The grin on her face made the edges of the scar wrinkle, and without thinking, Catra murmured, “What happened to you?”

“Shadow Weaver,” Adora shrugged. “She wasn’t happy to hear that I failed her in Thaymor.” Her jaw pulsed, and the implication sent a surge of guilt through Catra. 

Catra wasn’t sure what to say to that, so after a beat she replied, “I’m sorry.”

Adora smiled at her. “Don’t be.” In time with the music, Adora spun her in a slow circle before bringing them together again. “It’s not your fault. You know how she gets.” 

This time, no space was left between them, and the feeling of Adora’s hand on her back and their fronts pressed together reminded Catra of more than a few nights spent together. That quickly sent more, _much_ less innocent memories into her mind, and she hoped the blush on her face wasn’t visible. 

But Catra knew what Adora meant. She had her fair share of scars, both mental and physical, from her time in the Horde. It didn’t alleviate the guilt she felt, nor did it erase the fact that the two of them were on fundamentally different sides of a conflict neither fully understood, but it was reassuring to hear regardless. 

The music switched soon after that. Adora seemed like all she wanted to do was stay, but the dance demanded a change in partner. With one last look at her, Adora dipped her head in parting and began to dance with Scorpia. 

When the first explosions came, sending shards of ice down into the dance floor, Catra felt betrayal hit her like a brick wall. 

She whipped around, staring at Adora, who gave her a sad, tight attempt at a smile. _Not my idea,_ she mouthed. _Sorry._

There was something in her hand, Catra realized. Whatever it was, it was a familiar shade of gold. A _very_ familiar shade of gold, in fact.

Catra’s eyes widened. 

The sword was a little too big for Catra when she’d first found it, though it had shrunk a little to be more proportional, and the hilt was dwarfed by Adora’s hand around it. 

Adora ran to the roof, and Catra followed her easily. All Catra could ask was, “Why?”

All Adora could tell her was, “You had your mission. I had mine.”

Catra lunged at her, Adora dodged it, and they fought each other and meant it for the first time in either of their lives.

And still when Adora slipped on a falling chunk of ice, Catra couldn’t help but shoot an arm out to catch her. Adora’s hand landed on her wrist at the same time, and they stood there for a moment panting and breathless with the sword in Adora’s grasp. 

They were spared the choice of deciding what to do next by the ground collapsing under them. Then, it was just the two of them hanging off the side of a cliff, only kept in the air by Catra’s claws digging hard into the ice. 

She tried to readjust her grip on Adora, but her hand was slipping. The thought made her more panicked than satisfied, and she said, “Fuck, I-I can’t hold you—”

“You don’t have to,” Adora interrupted. There was a chopping, whirring sound getting closer and closer, and a Horde transport appeared out of nowhere before dipping below them. Scorpia was behind the controls, but she was alone. Catra supposed Bow and Glimmer were safe somewhere else. 

Adora’s hand went limp in hers, and when she fell it was into the cockpit of the transport. 

She still had the sword, and when Adora’s voice came through, a little staticky from the speaker it emerged from, she said, “Come with us, Catra. Come home. We have the sword either way.”

Catra stared dumbly before hissing out, “Get fucked.”

She watched Adora sigh. “Then I’m sorry it had to be this way.” The transport — _and the sword_ , which was all Catra could really focus on — began to dip away. The last words she heard Adora say over the intercom were, “Tell Frosta it was a great party.”

The transport left, leaving Catra clinging desperately to the side of a cliff. She was alone and powerless in a way she hadn’t been since the Horde.

When Glimmer rescued her and brought her down safely, the first thing Catra said was, “They have the sword.”

“Shit,” Glimmer said, covering her mouth a little. “What do we do?”

“I don’t give a fuck what you do,” Catra said, voice shaky and shivering from the cold. “But I’m getting it back.”

Bow shrugged off his jacket and slung it around her shoulders, which provided some relief. “Is that a good idea?”

“I don’t care.” Catra looked between them with a hard, unyielding stare. “I’m not giving up She-Ra just because Adora wants to teach me a lesson. This is the _only_ fucking thing I’ve had to myself. I’m not gonna live in her shadow anymore.”

“Catra… are you doing this for the Rebellion?” Bow asked, eyeing her a little. There wasn’t an accusation in his voice, which Catra was grateful for. Part of her, the part that never quite left the Horde, wished there was. It was easier to lash out when she was provoked. “Or for yourself?”

Catra knew the answer was more selfish than any of her allies would want to hear, but it was the truth. She was powerful, she was important, and for the first time in her life, she was respected. No way in _hell_ was she giving that up. “Does it matter?”

“One day, it might,” Glimmer said, shrugging. “But not right now. We need She-Ra now more than ever, so,” She said, turning to Bow and nodding once, “we’re coming with you. I bet the others will too, if you ask.”

Catra frowned. “What about your mom?”

“She’ll get over it.” Glimmer let out a quiet sigh. “Listen, if someone took my magic away, I’d be pissed, too. So let’s get it back.”

*** * ***

It was easier to convince the rest of the Alliance to help out than Catra had been anticipating. The moment she’d mentioned that She-Ra would be gone, they all seemed to share a look before, one by one, they agreed to help her recover the sword. 

This wasn’t something Catra was used to. 

In the past, she and Adora had mainly fended for themselves. They’d helped each other not because it was the right thing to do, but because they needed to in order to survive. 

This mission would put the members of the Alliance directly in harm’s way, which — to Catra — meant there was a very slim chance anyone else would agree to join her. 

She was proven wrong. 

Mermista was the first to join them when Catra mumbled that she might need help. 

“Don’t, like, make a big deal of it,” She said, flipping her hair over one shoulder and crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s part of the job, right?” Catra would’ve believed her disinterest if it hadn’t been for the soft smile on her face. 

Sea Hawk volunteered directly after, dropping to his knees in front of Mermista and loudly declaring his candidacy for her bodyguard. Perfuma was next, offering her services with a broad grin, and that left Entrapta.

She didn’t seem to particularly care about what was happening, but the idea of getting her hands on Horde technology was appealing enough for her to give Catra a thumbs-up and agree to help. 

On their way to the Horde, Catra couldn’t help nerves from bubbling up in her chest. There was a sinking pit in her stomach that only grew deeper the closer they got. 

It must have shown on her face, because a few seconds later Glimmer put a gentle hand on her arm. “Hey,” She said softly, making sure no one else could hear them. “You okay?”

Catra nodded stiffly. “Yeah. Just… feels weird to be back.”

Glimmer gave her a sympathetic smile. “I bet. But you have us, Catra. We’re not gonna let anything bad happen to you.”

“You can’t promise that,” Catra found herself replying. At Glimmer’s confused, half-worried look, she shook her head. “But, um.” She swallowed. Her next words came out in a whisper. “Thank you. For—for coming with me like this.”

“You’re one of us, remember?” Glimmer smiled. “Princesses have to stick together. And besides,” She said, nodding to the others on Sea Hawk’s boat. “We’re the _Alliance_. This is gonna be a piece of cake.”

It was not.

Things fell apart almost immediately as the Princesses scattered — Mermista was in the sewers, Bow and Sea Hawk were on the outside, and Perfuma and Entrapta were trying to find the sword’s location — and when Catra and Glimmer ended up surrounded by Horde soldiers in a narrow hallway, the only thing left to do was put their hands up. 

“Take us to the Black Garnet,” Catra said, ignoring the bile that started to rise in her stomach. “I need to talk to Shadow Weaver.”

Half a minute later, the two of them were being pushed through the tall, looming doors. 

Shadow Weaver was waiting for them. “I wondered if you’d come,” She said, stretching out a hand. Catra felt a coldly familiar power seize her, locking her in place. “And you, Princess, it’s lovely to meet you. Tell me, how is your mother doing?”

Glimmer was in the same position as Catra, but her eyes looked strained, as though she was in some kind of pain. A quick flash of purple sparked into the air before a groan tore its way out of her, and Catra realized what was happening. 

She was trying — and failing — to teleport, and whatever Shadow Weaver was doing was hurting her. 

Then, another voice came from the doorway to the room. “Catra,” It breathed, and she knew instantly who it belonged to. 

Adora walked around, jaw tight and eyes darting between the two of them as Shadow Weaver released them from her hold. Catra dropped to a knee and began to take in shaky gasps of air as Glimmer’s legs gave out under her.

“Shadow Weaver, what— what is this?” Adora asked tightly, whipping around to look at her with a betrayed look in her eye. “You said they wouldn’t be hurt.”

Shadow Weaver let out a small, thoughtful hum. “I lied,” She said. Without another word, she raised a hand and sent a crackling bolt of red toward Glimmer. Catra’s heart leapt into her throat, but rather than hit her, the bolt seemed to anchor her to the wall behind. Glimmer’s eyes widened, and she tried to teleport away.

It didn’t work. Catra watched pink and purple mix angrily with red, clashing and radiating magic in a way that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up, and Glimmer was left panting and holding back tears at the pain. 

“Let her go,” Catra said, staggering back to her feet. “I’m the one you want, right?” She wasn’t sure where the words came from, but she realized distantly that she didn’t regret them. “Fine. Here I am.” 

Adora shook her head. “No. This isn’t right.” She turned to Shadow Weaver again. “You lied to Hordak and I,” She said coldly. “When he finds out what you’ve done—”

“He _won’t_ find out,” Shadow Weaver interrupted. “How could he? Are you going to tell him, Force Captain?” Sarcasm dripped from her voice. “No. You’re going to follow orders.” She pointed to Catra. “Restrain her.”

When Shadow Weaver’s hand raised towards Catra, Adora didn’t move. Catra watched her jaw pulse. “No.”

Shadow Weaver turned slowly towards her. “Excuse me?”

“I don’t take orders from traitors,” Adora said quietly, and Catra watched her hands tighten into trembling fists.

Catra realized what was happening, and began to inch slowly over to the backside of the Black Garnet — and, more importantly, the wires and pipes hanging from the ceiling — to get a vantage point while Shadow Weaver was distracted with Adora. 

Months of experience and interaction with runestones told her that Princesses needed a connection with them to use their powers. 

The Black Garnet was Scorpia’s family runestone, as she’d learned a few nights prior, and Shadow Weaver was no Princess. That meant there was another way she was using it. Catra looked around the room, trying to find the source of contact, before her eyes landed on the gem set into her mask.

“How _dare_ you,” Shadow Weaver seethed, energy crackling around her. 

Adora’s jaw tightened even further, but she didn’t look away. “You heard me.” 

The gem was the same shade as the runestone, and it began to glow as red lightning arced out towards Adora, who narrowly avoided being hit. The lightning hit a pipe and burst it, bathing the room in smoke and steam, and Adora took the chance to hide.

That was it, Catra realized. 

If she could just breakthat gem somehow, she could sever Shadow Weaver’s connection to it _and_ save Glimmer. She didn’t know when she’d become so focused on rescuing other people, but that was something to figure out later. Right now, she needed to make sure she wasn’t seen. 

Catra, now perched on one of the pipes coming out of the Black Garnet, waved until she drew Adora’s attention. She raised a finger and set it to her lips before pointing downwards at where Shadow Weaver was stalking around, trying to find her.

Catra prayed to whatever was listening that she wouldn’t be betrayed again. She figured that between Adora and Shadow Weaver, only one was likely to actually hurt her. 

The only sign Adora gave that she was with her was a quick dip of her chin in a jerky nod. She took a few steps forward, revealing herself from where she was crouched behind a pipe in a clear invitation for Shadow Weaver to come a little closer towards her. 

Catra got ready to pounce. 

This wasn’t the first time they’d taken on a tough enemy with the use of a little misdirection, though a dull realization hit her that it might be the last. 

Catra nodded when she was ready, and Adora’s eyes steeled before she changed positions, making Shadow Weaver face her— and, more importantly, Catra. 

She leapt down and put all of her energy into a swipe of her claws. She wasn’t sure if it was her newfound strength or something more, but it shattered under her.

Shadow Weaver let out a horrible, anguished scream before falling unconscious to the ground, and the bonds around Glimmer vanished. 

An alarm began to sound, and Adora’s head whipped over to her before she tackled her. 

Catra was knocked flat on the ground, and began to struggle when Adora leaned in close to whisper frantically, “Knock me out.”

“What?” 

“Hordak is watching,” Adora said urgently before letting out a fake yell of pain. “If you’re going to escape, it has to be now. Knock me out, or—or at least pretend to.”

Catra’s eyes flew wide. “Why are you helping me?”

“Because I—” Adora cut off abruptly. “It wasn’t right. What we did to you, it—it wasn’t fair. I’m sick of Shadow Weaver’s fucking mind games.” She flipped them over, pretending to struggle against pressure that wasn’t there. “The sword is in the storage room three doors down,” She hissed. “Take it and go.” 

Glimmer groaned from the other side of the room, and when she tried to teleport over, that same red-pink lightning flashed across her body. It drew a pained yelp from her, and she collapsed back onto the floor.

Catra swallowed. Adora was right. They had to move fast. “This doesn’t make me like you,” Catra hissed back.

“Yeah, sure,” Adora said. “Whatever you say.” Catra brought a fist up and let it hover in the air before she pretended to slam it down against Adora’s face. Sure enough, Adora went limp under her, and Catra shot across the room to help Glimmer to her feet.

When they left, Catra took one last look at Adora where she was lying on the ground and felt something twinge at the sight of her. Despite her best efforts to convince herself otherwise, she didn’t want to be Adora’s enemy. 

What she wanted, _truly_ wanted, was something much more dangerous, and she couldn’t deal with that realization right now. 

Catra left with Glimmer clinging to her and found the sword exactly where Adora had told her it would be. When the soldiers came to stop them, they found themselves facing She-Ra in all her glory, and that was enough for half of them to run. 

They made their way outside to find Sea Hawk waiting with his ship. Bow pulled them on as they ran, and then they were zooming out of the Fright Zone into the wasteland separating it from the Whispering Woods. 

Catra transformed back into her body, and sighed in relief before turning with a tired grin to the rest of her allies, but no one returned it. Most were staring at the ground or into the distance. Perfuma was crying. “What? What is it?”

“Entrapta,” Bow said quietly. “We, um. We lost her.”

After a beat, Catra looked down at the hilt of her sword. 

If it had happened months before, Catra would have told herself that Entrapta knew what she was getting into. She found it harder to justify that idea when she was the one who’d asked her to come. 

A tear landed on the runestone below, and Catra realized with a shock that she was crying. 

“What do we do?” Bow asked her.

A memory came to her, and Catra found herselves echoing Razz’s words from months before. “What can any of us do?” She murmured, more to herself than to him. After a second, she looked up to see the Alliance watching her. 

Catra let out a small sigh and wiped the tears away from her face. “Entrapta shouldn’t have died, but she did. We have to live with that and keep fighting.” She was quiet for a second before she continued, “And we _all_ have to. Princesses stick together, right?”

Mermista shook her head a little. “Not if we’re all gonna die because of it. I have a kingdom to run. We _all_ have kingdoms to run.” She looked down. “Maybe there’s a reason the last Alliance didn’t work.” She shook her head again. “Sorry, but… I’m out.”

After a moment, Perfuma inhaled shakily and said, “Me too. All this death and destruction, I—I can’t do it. I’m not built for this.”

Catra watched them go one by one until all that remained were her, Bow, and Glimmer. “What the fuck do we do now?” Catra asked, trying very hard not to let her anger slip into her voice. There was a mess of emotions swirling around inside her, and she was pretty sure she was going to blow soon. “Fuck. What are we supposed to do?”

“I don’t know. I mean, without the Alliance—” Glimmer cut off with a small noise of pain as her powers took over again, almost seeming to glitch. 

“We have to get you back to Bright Moon,” Bow said. “Like, _now_. I think you just need to—to heal a bit, and spend some time with the runestone.” He finished it with a worried nod, and Catra’s eyes flicked down to where his hands were starting to shake. 

Catra wasn’t looking forward to facing Angella, but Bow was right. “I’m with Arrow Boy,” She said, nodding a little. “You need to recharge.”

“I’m fine,” Glimmer said, voice strained and shaky. 

Catra raised an eyebrow. “Right. That’s something _I_ would say, which is how I know you’re not.”

Glimmer rolled her eyes. “Okay, but if my mom sees—”

“She won’t.” Catra shook her head. “Believe me, none of us want that.”

The sun hadn’t begun to set, so Catra figured they would have time. She hoped they would, anyway. Once again, her thoughts returned to Entrapta, and she felt her eyes close. She’d managed to avoid having the loss of another person’s life on her conscience, and was beginning to hope she never would. 

Apparently, that was too much to ask.

She looked over at where her sword rested behind her shoulder, and thought, just for a moment, that the runestone was the color of blood.

*** * ***

It was hard for Catra to make herself stay in Bright Moon with the weight of Entrapta’s death on her shoulders. She knew, realistically, that it wasn’t her fault. But that didn’t stop her from blaming herself.

Plus, Glimmer was still glitching. Angella had _not_ been happy when she found out, and had told Catra in no uncertain terms that this was _her_ mess to fix. The way she said it reminded Catra that it wasn’t the first time someone had alluded to the sword being used to heal, which made her think there was some weight to it after all.

She thought she’d been doing well with her new destiny, but losing an ally showed her that wasn’t true. Catra thought, not for the first time, that she had to do better than this if she was going to be the She-Ra the Rebellion and the Princess Alliance — the _former_ Princess Alliance, she corrected — needed.

A few too many sleepless nights resulted in Catra gripping the hilt of her sword tight and returning to the Beacon. She wasn’t sure why, exactly, but there was a tug in her gut that told her it was where she needed to be. The last time she tried to ignore it, she ended up exhausted, sleep-deprived, and a defector, so that wasn’t an option she was going to consider.

She hadn’t been back to the Beacon in months, not since the day she met Razz, but found it unchanged since she’d been there. Catra had almost forgotten the way. Luckily for her, there was a beam of light shooting up from it that made it pretty easy to find.

More importantly, she saw a familiar figure clad in black and red heading inside. 

Adora had her hands on her hips, trying to figure out the writing on the wall with a squint, when Catra pressed the tip of the sword to her back. She paused instantly. After a beat, Adora turned her head slightly so Catra could see half of her face, and lifted her hands slowly up to prove they were empty. 

“What are you doing here?” Catra asked, hearing the rasp of her voice come out so strong that made Adora’s jaw tighten. 

“Did you follow me?” Adora asked, tone just light and teasing enough to get on Catra’s nerves. “Aw. You _do_ like me, don’t you?”

“Shut up,” Catra said. She was too tired to deal with the situation right now, and the only thing she could think about alternated between Entrapta’s death and Glimmer’s situation. “I’m not in the mood for this. What the fuck are you doing here?”

Adora turned a little more, eyebrows raised at the tired undertone in Catra’s voice. “Have you been sleeping enough? It’s really important for your body’s function and wellbeing, you know—” Catra dug the point in a little deeper, and Adora cut herself off. “Yeesh, alright. Fine.” She shook her head a little. “The Horde wants First Ones tech to study. This is a huge source of First Ones tech. Do the math.”

“Okay, well, that’s not happening,” Catra said, huffing in annoyance. “I have to get in there to _use_ that tech, and I can’t have you running off with any.”

“Wait, you know how to get in here?” Adora asked half in awe, turning fully to face her. Catra heard her belt clink as she did, and saw a familiar Force Captain’s badge hanging there. The sight of it stung in a way she didn’t expect. 

Catra pushed those feelings down, choosing instead to ignore it, and rolled her eyes. “Obviously. I can transform into an eight-foot-tall warrior. You think I can’t open a door?” 

She considered her options for a second, gnawing at her lip. If a little piece of tech would get Adora out of her hair, she could probably spare _something_. Besides, it’s not like anyone there would be able to use it. 

“Fine. You can come inside,” Catra said, raising a finger to stop Adora from grinning and thanking her. “On two conditions. One,” She said, glaring, “no one knows we were here at the same time, and _two_ , you stop being so—” She shook her head, searching for the right word. “So _familiar_ with me. In case you’d forgotten, we’re enemies.”

Adora frowned. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” Catra slung the sword back over her shoulder. She let out a sigh. “Listen, you—” She shook her head a little, barely believing that she was _actually_ about to do this. “You saved Glimmer and I back in the Fright Zone. I don’t want this to be some—some _debt_ that I owe you.”

Adora nodded a little, blinking once or twice. “That makes sense. We’ll call it even.” She looked at Catra for a moment after like there was something she wanted to say. “I’ve never wanted to be your enemy, you know.”

Catra wasn’t sure what to say to that, so rather than say anything she rolled her eyes and started walking over to the door. She read the password inscribed on it, the door mechanism rumbled to life, and the two of them began the long, slow walk down into the depths of the castle. 

It was cold, and the air was stale and flat in a way Catra wasn’t used to. Adora was quiet beside her, which she was grateful for. When they made it to a large chamber with a carving of She-Ra glittering at the back of it, Catra knew what she had to do.

Half a second and a familiar sentence later, She-Ra was standing next to Adora, bathing the space around them in soft white-gold light. Adora just stared while she walked into the center of the room. A hologram fizzled to life before them. 

_Administrator detected_ , it said. _Welcome, She-Ra, Princess of Power._

“Um,” Catra said. “Yeah. Hi.”

 _What is your query?_ The voice asked, and Catra realized where she’d heard it before. “Um, I need to find some information.” The hologram was silent, staring at her until she elaborated further. Catra rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine. Uh…” She looked down at the glittering runestone. “Tell me about the sword.”

After a nod, the hologram rattled off some pre-written line about its history and classification, but that wouldn’t help her right now. Catra frowned, interrupting, “Yeah, but how do I use it to heal?”

The hologram blinked. _Query not recognized_. 

Catra groaned. “Come on. People keep telling me the sword can heal.”

 _Healing and restoration is one of the Sword of Protection’s many intended functions_.

“Uh huh,” Catra said before realizing a hologram wouldn’t understand sarcasm. “And how do I _do_ that?”

The hologram crackled a little. _Query not recognized_.

Catra’s eye twitched. Taking a deep breath, she turned to the side, trying her hardest not to lose her shit at a piece of machinery. 

As she did, memories flashed before her again. She heard the voice that had spoken the first time she touched the sword and saw a woman’s face, clad in blue and black and white. _Light Hope_ , a voice told her _._

Catra came back to reality with a shuddering gasp. “Where’s Light Hope?” She asked, eyes narrowing a little. “I want to speak to her.”

 _Light Hope,_ the hologram repeated. _Yes. Light Hope is here. She has been waiting for you_.

“Oh,” Catra said, blinking. “Great. Can I talk to her?”

 _You will meet her soon enough_ , the hologram told her. _But first, you must let go._

Catra frowned, letting out a huff. She was getting _really_ sick of all the riddles and vagueness. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

The hologram was unfazed by the annoyance in her voice. _You are not ready yet. You must let go._

“Great,” Adora said, stepping into the light. “ _That’s_ helpful.”

Catra had almost forgotten she was there, and jumped a little at the sound of her voice. The hologram had a similar reaction, and whipped around to face her. _Unauthorized presence detected,_ it said, and the lights around them went red. _Security protocol activated_.

The following hour went about as well as one would expect. 

There were _spiders_ chasing after them, and the only thing that kept them from getting eaten — could fake spiders still eat people? — was Catra sending half a hallway tumbling down on their heads. She’d grabbed Adora, pulling her under her shield, and then they were left alone in an unfamiliar place. 

To make matters worse, each new room seemed to present its own new, horrible challenge. 

At this point, Catra would’ve just preferred the spiders. Instead, she had to watch herself grow up all over again. She saw scrawny, childhood versions of her and Adora run around, making jokes and getting in trouble for stupid reasons. Without really knowing why, the sight of it made her a little sad.

But it wasn’t just _her_ memories the Beacon was responding to. 

Catra didn’t notice until they were watching an old memory — one that happened when they were no more than seven or eight years old, and Catra had started trouble for a reason only a kid that age understood — and her recollection of it ended. 

In typical childhood fashion, Adora was about to take the punishment in Catra’s place, which was something Shadow Weaver had encouraged in what she considered a future model soldier. 

_Always willing to die for others, always willing to put herself on the line so someone else wouldn’t have to,_ Shadow Weaver had told her once. _Selfless. You should be more like her._

Catra watched herself run out of the Black Garnet chamber after Shadow Weaver sent her out. She’d half-expected the scene to stop, but it didn’t.

Confused, she turned to Adora. 

Her brow furrowed in concern as she took in the sight of Adora tense and shaking beside her, hand flying to the center of her chest and pressing hard as she let out a sharp exhale. 

At the sight of the motion, something flickered in Catra’s mind. 

There was a certain point in their childhood where a dark, splotchy scar had appeared on Adora’s chest. It had since faded, and was now the white of normal scar tissue, but she remembered the splintering, winding shape that lightning scars always left. 

Catra realized with an almost audible _click_ what she was about to see, and her eyes widened. “Hey. Hey, listen, we—we don’t have to watch it—”

“It’s fine,” Adora said quietly, her eyes distant as they remained fixed on the younger, terrified version of herself. “Really. It’s in the past.”

Her skin was pale, and the tight, tense expression she wore only accentuated the fresh red scar on her face. As Shadow Weaver spoke in low, hurtful tones to a younger Adora frozen in time within a trap of red smoke, Catra kept a concerned, half-worried eye on the current one. 

She expected Adora to look away when the bolt of lightning shot out of Shadow Weaver’s fingers. She didn’t. Adora flinched, and let out a sharp breath through her nose, but she never looked away. 

The memory ended soon after, and Adora walked away from her without saying another word. 

Catra knew her well enough even now, almost half a year after leaving her, to know she would spiral if she was left alone any longer. “Hey,” She said, jogging over to catch up to her. “You okay?”

“What do you think?” Adora snapped, watching Catra’s eyes widen. She sighed a little, and Catra saw the tension begin to drain from her body. “I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have— I’m sorry.” Adora let out another sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Catra said instantly, hesitating with a hand in the air before she let it rest tentatively on Adora’s shoulder. “I… never knew how bad it was.”

Adora let out a humorless chuckle. “That wasn’t even the worst of it.”

Catra wasn’t sure how to respond to that. She paused a moment before reaching an awkward, hesitant hand out and saying, “Still. I should’ve done a better job of noticing back when we were kids.” It wasn’t quite an apology — Catra wasn’t sure if she was ready for that yet — but it was close. 

Adora searched her face for a second, and seemed to understand what she meant with the words. “Yeah. Maybe I should’ve done a better job of telling you.” She gnawed at the inside of her lip. “Hordak put her in a prison cell, you know. For disobeying him.”

“No shit,” Catra said, eyes widening. “Shadow Weaver got demoted? Who’s the new second-in-command?”

Adora blinked for a second, scratching the back of her head. “Um. Well… me.” 

A silence settled over them as Catra took in the information. 

Adora got power, respect, and agency over what the Horde did. Catra got responsibility and a destiny she didn’t want and was blamed for things she had no control over on top of it. If there was an equality to those things, she didn’t see it.

“Congratulations.” Her voice sounded distant, even to her own ears. “You got what you always wanted.” She could hear the bitterness in her voice. 

Judging from the way Adora’s face twisted, she could too. “Are you seriously about to get mad at me? In case you _forgot_ , Catra, _you_ left _me_. We could’ve done this together.”

“ _Together?_ ” Catra asked, incredulous. “Adora, you’ve never wanted to share the spotlight! You think I haven’t noticed how much you like being the—the fucking _golden child_?” 

She was spared a further response by the sound of metallic scraping and fast movement from the hallway. Without thinking, Catra pulled the sword from her back and spoke a now-familiar sentence. 

The hallway was illuminated for a moment in bright light as she transformed, leaving the two of them to face a veritable army of spiders. 

In the end, they were overwhelmed. 

Adora almost got taken by one, wrapped in spider silk and dragged off to some darkened crevice, and would probably have been eaten if not for She-Ra’s sword cutting the thread and destroying the spider in question. 

A mix of exhaustion and ambush made Catra transform back into herself, and a badly-taken hit sent her sprawling across the room until she was tumbling over the edge of a cliff. Her sword went with her, clanging down into the depths of the empty space beneath her.

Adora was by her side in an instant, offering a hand. “Catra, grab my hand!” She said, eyes flashing with urgency. “Come on!”

 _Let go_ , Light Hope’s voice told her. 

Just like that, it all made sense. Adora’s hand was outstretched to her, and Catra knew if she took it she’d never want to let it go. The choice was before her: take the hand and choose herself and her feelings over her destiny, or let go and accept her fate. 

The second that passed seemed to last a lifetime. Three things clicked into place for Catra.

One: Catra was a selfish person, and she was letting them get _far_ too familiar out of a mix of nostalgia and desperation. 

Two: unless Catra made it _very_ clear that whatever past friendship they had was over, Adora would never stop trying to get her to rejoin the Horde. 

Three: being enemies and forgetting anything that lay between them would be easier than being enemies and remembering it. 

So Catra looked Adora in the eyes when she said, “No.”

Adora blinked once, then twice, and frowned at her with wide, confused eyes. “What? What the fuck do you—”

“I’m not going with you,” Catra said, voice straining from the effort of keeping herself up. “Don’t you get it? I am _never_ going to go with you.”

She saw hurt, fear, and anger write themselves across Adora’s face. “But you—”

“No. I’m not living in your shadow anymore.” Catra shook her head. “Leave, Adora. Don’t come back.” 

_Let go,_ Light Hope’s voice said again. 

For once in her life, Catra listened. 

*** * ***

When Catra woke up in a different, peaceful part of the Beacon, there was someone— some _thing_ waiting there for her. 

_Catra_ , a now-familiar robotic voice said. A woman clad in the blues and blacks of the galaxy turned to her. _Welcome_. _I’ve been waiting for you_.

Light Hope told her everything: about the First Ones, about the planet and the threat the Horde posed to it, and that she was the latest She-Ra in a long, _long_ line. 

And still, all Catra wanted to know was—

“Why did you pick me?” She asked, frowning a little. “I mean, if you guys already had someone in mind, why—”

 _Our initial candidate was… compromised_ , Light Hope said carefully. _In her failure to take up the mantle of She-Ra, the Sword of Protection sought out someone close to her with the intent to create—_

Realization clicked in Catra’s mind.

 _Someone close to her_. 

She couldn’t help the ragged exhale that tore its way past her lips. “It was Adora, wasn’t it? She was the one meant for the sword?” 

Light Hope didn’t answer, but her eyes dipped downward. That told Catra everything she needed to know.

Catra shook her head, feeling rage begin to boil within her. “Fucking _unbelievable_ ,” She gritted out. “I thought this was the first thing that was actually _mine_ , and I’m still second best to her.”

 _No._ Light Hope reached a glimmering hand up to rest above her shoulder. The palm of her hand crackled and fizzled as it met Catra’s body. 

_No, Catra,_ Light Hope repeated. _You are the one who wields the sword._ You _are She-Ra_. It was hard for a hologram to sound insistent, but she did a good job. _You were chosen for this, and_ you _will save your planet from the Horde. No one else._

Catra nodded stiffly. She was confused, angry, desperate, and every emotion in between— but more than anything else, she was tired. “Yeah,” She said. “How… do I do that?”

 _Time will tell,_ Light Hope said. _Have faith in yourself._

“Right,” Catra murmured. For a moment, she thought that out of everything she’d been asked to do, that might be the hardest. 

A beat passed before she remembered the reason she was there in the first place. 

“Hey, how do I heal people?” At Light Hope’s blank expression, Catra continued, “Just— Glimmer’s powers got messed up because of something Shadow Weaver did to her. I know the sword can heal, I just—”

_The Princess’ connection with her runestone was disrupted._

Catra nodded slowly and took a deep inhale, willing herself not to yell at a hologram again. “And I’m gonna try and fix it. That’s something I can do, right?”

_You will be able to do many incredible things with training._

“Training?” Catra let out a low groan. “Okay, I’m not sure you’re really hearing me. I need to fix this _now_.”

 _Yes_ , Light Hope said. _Your mission is to fix the planet_. 

This was getting frustrating. “Well, _right now_ , my mission is to help my friend.” Catra’s eyes widened after she spoke the word. She… called Glimmer her friend. Even more unbelievable than that was the fact that she _meant_ it. 

Of course, Light Hope either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Probably both. _You are She-Ra,_ she repeated. _Your purpose is to save all of Etheria._

“I can do both,” Catra said with a frown. “I can’t save Etheria without Glimmer.”

Light Hope shook her head. _You are distracted by your attachments. You have always been,_ she said. _I have watched you for many years, Catra. You must let go._

Catra folded her arms over her chest. “And what happens if I don’t?”

Light Hope was quiet for a moment. If she had been human, Catra would’ve thought she was remembering something. _There was one before you who could not let go_ , She said finally. _Mara._

“Wait, like Razz’s Mara?” Catra asked, eyes flicking over to a projection of a tall woman with dark brown hair and a hard stare. Given the laugh lines around her eyes, it didn’t look quite right on her. “What happened to her?”

Light Hope told her about how Mara had struggled to control the power Catra now wielded, how she was driven insane by it, and how she’d nearly broken the She-Ra line with her actions. 

But Catra watched Mara’s face as a projection played around them, and something… didn’t feel right. 

Maybe it was years of questioning the Horde’s teachings, or maybe it was her reluctance to go right back to being the puppet of a destiny far greater than her, but something in Catra warned her not to believe Light Hope. 

More than anything, Catra found it hard to shake the feeling that there was something she wasn’t being told. 

Light Hope wanted her to stay and train for an indeterminate length of time, but that wasn’t going to happen. Catra had never liked being controlled. It made no difference to her if the person doing it wore a blood-red dragon or a glittering blue dress. 

By the time Glimmer, Bow, and the panther she’d accidentally created — who introduced himself with a low hum in her mind as _Melog_ — made their way into the Crystal Castle to save her, they came with panicked yells of falling snow and red lightning in the sky. 

In the end, it was Melog who woke her up. He was calm, with none of the skittery fear and nerves he’d had the last time they met. Without moving his mouth, Melog told her that she was needed, both as She-Ra and as herself.

 _Look at them,_ he said, turning towards a projection of Bow and Glimmer trying to fight off spiders. _Look at how they fight for you_. _They_ need _you, Catra. Help them._

It wasn’t the weirdest thing she’d seen today, so Catra decided to listen. She’d been harboring an anxious sort of fear that Bow and Glimmer wouldn’t want her to stay, but watching them fight and defend her apparently-unconscious body changed her mind. 

Light Hope had been wrong, Catra realized. Her attachments were no weakness. For so long, she’d forbidden herself from getting in too deep out of fear of betrayal or loss or any kind of grief. Losing Entrapta had reinforced that. 

She had thought it would be hard to find anyone who could make her feel like Adora did— and in some ways, that was still true. She’d always felt like she had to watch out for the two of them, although it was in a different way than Adora did, and assumed she’d never feel that urge again.

But now, looking at where joy and relief mingled with nerves on her friends’ faces, Catra thought it was the easiest thing in the world to protect them. This transformation into She-Ra was the most effortless yet, and she couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace knowing what she was doing mattered. 

*** * ***

In Entrapta’s words, the experiment was more successful than Adora could’ve _dreamed_. 

At least, that’s what it looked like. Adora didn’t have the same level of knowledge as Entrapta did about what she called _the thaumaturgical connection of science and magic_ , but whatever she was doing seemed to be working.

Finding her had been an unexpected blessing. According to what she said — and what they knew about her already — Entrapta had gotten separated from the Princesses’ group when they came to get the sword back.

Originally, Adora wondered if there was any information that could be gained from her, but only a few minutes of observation showed her that she would be _far_ more useful as an ally.

Scorpia had agreed instantly, and the three of them had gotten to work brainstorming ideas. Entrapta asked for First Ones tech, and Adora figured they didn’t have anything to lose by trying. 

That led her to the Beacon, which led her to tech she didn’t know existed, which led her to— 

_Catra_.

Adora’s jaw twitched just thinking about her. She knew anger wasn’t the only thing she was feeling, but it _was_ the strongest. Betrayal sat below it, and since she didn’t want to unpack the swirling mix of _other_ emotions under that, she let herself focus on the first two.

As always, she threw herself into work to avoid thinking about it too much.

After Shadow Weaver’s imprisonment and the results the data crystal had yielded once Entrapta set her mind to working on it, Hordak had been more than willing to let Scorpia, Entrapta, and Adora (who had become a semi-functional team after a few weeks’ time together) use the Black Garnet for whatever they wanted. 

Something about what they were doing — especially once black clouds and red lightning filled the sky — felt wrong to Adora. But she hadn’t slept in two days, and after Catra had let herself fall rather than touch her again, she found it hard to want anything but retribution. 

According to the results of Entrapta’s research and, the planet was home, more than anything else, to power. That power was carefully balanced within a collection of runestones. Altering the power of one would have devastating effects on the others. 

Something pinged in Adora’s mind. She knew from Force Captain orientation that Bright Moon was both home to a runestone and the Rebellion’s headquarters. Despite their best efforts, the Horde hadn’t been able to breach it.

Upon hearing the information Entrapta relayed with a look of unrestrained glee, Adora made a decision instantly that she knew she wouldn’t be proud of: the Horde was going to attack Bright Moon.

As Hordak’s new second-in-command, she had to prove herself and her worth to him. In Adora’s mind, there was no better way than capturing the seat of the Rebellion and putting it down once and for all. 

The idea of hurting innocent people was something that, admittedly, rubbed her the wrong way. 

But she figured the Rebellion — though they were naive — put a high value on morality, and wouldn’t put innocent civilians at risk for no reason. If there was enough warning, or at the very least enough of a threat, the only people that would be left by the time the Horde reached the city would be soldiers. 

And Adora didn’t want to hurt people who weren’t directly involved in their conflict, true, but she had _no_ problem killing soldiers.

When the Black Garnet sent up a thick, crackling beam of energy up into the sky, Adora couldn’t help but flinch at the familiarity. Scorpia seemed to notice the way her jaw tightened and her eyes fell to the ground, because her face and her voice softened. 

A large, smooth claw rested on Adora’s shoulder, and the weight of it against her helped her stay in the present. “Hey,” Scorpia said quietly, a note of concern slipping into her voice. “Is everything okay?”

The two of them hadn’t been fast friends, exactly, but they’d reached a level of mutual respect after a few months of working together that they had grown comfortable with. That had grown into something close to friendship, even if Adora usually had more work to do than minutes to spare.

Adora nodded stiffly before giving her a tight smile. “Everything’s fine. Just reminiscing,” She said. After a second, she jerked her chin towards the runestone. “I’m gonna get as many squadrons as I can ready. I want you to do the same.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Scorpia said. She coughed. “So, are we moving out, like… right this second? Because that’s fine! I-I just have to get my guys together and everything—”

“No,” Adora interrupted. She shook her head. She stared at the runestone for a moment longer before her gaze flicked over to the facsimile of the planet Entrapta had made. 

Her eyes landed on the blinking red light that represented the Black Garnet. “Not with the Woods intact. I have a feeling whatever’s happening with the Black Garnet will affect them.” She turned back to Scorpia. “Wait for my signal. Understood?”

Scorpia nodded, and gave her a smile before patting her on the shoulder. “Understood, Captain. The Rebellion won’t know what hit them.”

*** * ***

Catra wasn’t sure how long she’d been with Light Hope, but she got the uncanny feeling that a few days had passed. Glimmer’s glitching was much worse, and Catra felt a deep pang of guilt at not being able to do anything to help her. 

Melog carried them effortlessly through the Woods, keeping a hard, unrelenting pace even as the greens and blues of the gnarling, twisting trees around them turned a dull gray. 

With the exception of ice at Princess Prom, Catra didn’t think she’d ever seen snow before. It was beautiful, in a way, but even the beauty she saw in the small white flakes was marred by the ash falling alongside it. 

They made it back to the city quickly, navigating by the tall blue beam of light that appeared moments after a crackling red one made itself seen, and Angella was waiting for them.

Catra thought she was about to be berated — or, at the very least, spoken to sternly — but all Angella did was pull the three of them in for a tight hug. 

Glimmer glitched again, writhing painfully in her mother’s arms, just as the general ran to deliver news to them.

Just when Catra thought nothing could get any worse, the Horde came to Bright Moon. 

But they had more time than she thought they would. The occupants of the city and the villages surrounding it were able to escape through a pass in the mountains, the guards were able to fortify themselves and their defenses, and Catra wondered for a moment if the time they were given was luck or something more. 

Once the civilians were gone, there was nothing left to do but wait. 

Glimmer was still glitching, but now clutched her father’s staff in both hands. Bow checked and rechecked the arrows he had available. Catra closed her eyes, transformed the sword into a shield almost at will, and hoped against hope that she wouldn’t have to face Adora. 

She did, of course. 

From the moment the Horde came out of the edge of the Whispering Woods, it was Adora who led the charge. She was at the helm of one of the larger vehicles — a tank, Catra thought, but it was hard to be sure given the new, unfamiliar design of their weapons — in an outfit Catra didn’t recognize as hers. 

It was black from head to toe, but when Adora turned to yell a command, Catra saw the red dragon’s wings of the Horde spread on the back. 

Both of her sleeves were noticeably absent, revealing large, muscular arms stained with sharp, jagged red streaks that served as a reminder of Shadow Weaver’s magic. Adora wore heavy, sturdy boots, carried what looked like a collapsible staff at her belt, and gave Catra a hard stare she wasn’t used to receiving.

Coupled with the scar on her face and the unrestrained fury in her eyes, Catra found herself really and truly _intimidated_ by Adora for the first time in her life.

When the two of them fought that day, Catra realized just how much Adora had been holding back before.

Despite the added size and strength of her She-Ra form, Catra was faster, which she considered an advantage, but even then it was hard to keep up with the raw, cold anger behind all of Adora’s strikes. 

Their fight seemed to last hours, with the sounds of Bright Moon crumbling around them to serve as background, and Catra watched cuts and scratches appear all over Adora’s body until blood dripped all over her from a mix of her claws and her sword. 

She was in no position to talk, of course. Adora had gotten more than a few strong, furious strikes in, and Catra could already see the beginnings of a sickly, purple bruise forming where Adora had nearly broken her leg with a hard kick that felt like steel hitting her.

At some point, Catra found herself half-conscious and separated from her runestone in the lake below the city, and she realized for the first time that this might not be a battle they could win. 

She tried to remember what Light Hope said about having faith in herself, but it was hard when the runestone was half a second from being destroyed and the city was in ruins already.

When Catra fell to her knees, her ribs screamed from where Adora’s staff had cracked across them. She wondered dimly if they would still be broken when she transformed back. 

Adora had a fresh cut across her lips, and it only made the snarl on her face look wilder when she thrust the point of her staff at Catra and growled, “Looks like it’s over, Princess.” 

Horde soldiers surrounded them both as Adora’s chest heaved from exertion, and Catra felt her vision starting to fade.

Catra had almost accepted her fate when the wave came crashing down around her. 

She’d half-expected the conversation on the skiff to be the last she ever shared with Mermista and Perfuma, and yet here they were. Frosta was with them, too, which came as a surprise, but Catra decided to let herself be grateful without questioning it further. 

The Princess Alliance was reformed that day in the midst of blood and destruction. When the restored, glowing runestone of Bright Moon tore the gathering clouds from the sky overhead, Catra couldn’t help but find it fitting. 

When Catra stood shoulder to shoulder with her allies, bathed in a glow of multicolored, rainbow light, she felt like she could exhale. Glimmer was healed by it almost instantly, and put her magic to use immediately taking out more of the soldiers littered around the castle.

Adora wasn’t a quitter, but she wasn’t stupid. She knew when she was beaten. 

She gave the order to retreat before the Alliance could destroy all of the tanks and skiffs and cannons, but not before giving Catra one last glare through the trees. The back of her shirt was ripped from where Catra had clawed down it, and she saw blood dripping down it when Adora turned to leave.

The fight wasn’t over, nor would it be for a long time. There would be weeks — months, realistically — of cleanup before the city and the Woods were anywhere near the state they’d been in before the start of the battle.

But a victory was a victory, and as she watched the Horde retreat Catra smiled in relief. A weight disappeared from her shoulders, and the newfound lightness in her chest made her a little breathless.

Looking around at the cheering faces of her allies, Catra let herself focus on the win. At least for the time being, that was enough. 

When Perfuma congratulated her, Mermista gave her a shout of encouragement, and Glimmer pulled her into a tight, half-crushing hug, she returned all of it easily and without thinking twice about whether or not she deserved it.


	2. the message

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra forms a bond. Adora visits the infirmary. Bow shoots the wrong arrow, Glimmer uses magic on a mountain, and Scorpia delivers some files. 
> 
> Hordak's experiment is successful, and his work begins to develop. A larger project looms in the distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi everybody! so, this is a little embarrassing, but i've gone from making this a oneshot to a fic with (in order) 3, 4, and now 5 parts. there will be one for each season. 
> 
> as the chapter tells us, this is the second season. it's shorter than the first (though not by much), and i expect the third to be about the same length. alex and i are having a blast writing this, and it's been a lot of fun to rewatch the show in time with it. 
> 
> as always, kudos and comments are more than appreciated (i am starving) and you can find us on tumblr @adorasheart and @brightbolts! 
> 
> without further ado, i present chapter two! enjoy!

It took longer than Catra would’ve hoped to clean up after the Battle of Bright Moon. Even when the rubble was cleared and the castle rebuilt, there was always more to do. 

The biggest thing on the Alliance’s list was, at the moment, regrowing the Whispering Woods. 

Whatever the Horde had done — something to do with runestones, she knew, though she wasn’t sure of the specifics — it had run _deep_. Even without the magic in her veins, Catra would’ve been able to tell that the forest was wounded. 

When the high of victory faded into the reality of what reuniting would mean, the Alliance had become a little… _strained_. It started with little things. 

It hadn’t been much longer than a month, and Catra had only picked up on a few, but they were meaningful enough for her to recognize the seeds of tension being sown.

The first time it happened was when Mermista took Perfuma’s (un)assigned seat during a meeting. Perfuma was slow to anger, but for nearly eighteen years Catra had made her living knowing when people were on the verge. She knew she didn’t imagine it when she saw Perfuma’s eye twitch in well-hidden fury. 

Then there was Frosta. She was getting on Glimmer’s nerves constantly — annoying in the way only an eleven-year-old can be — and Catra and Bow found themselves giving her warning looks every time they saw Glimmer’s jaw clench. 

They all knew she meant well. Still, the jokes and the yelling got old after a while. 

As for Catra, she was already spending all of her free time in the Crystal Castle training. 

By now, she was used to the feeling of needing to actively work on her skills to keep them fresh, but it didn’t help the feeling of crushing, guilty self-doubt that flared somewhere deep inside her every time Light Hope commented on a way to improve her fighting. 

Of course, in the moment it always manifested as a snapped remark or a sarcastic eye-roll from Catra. Time had passed since she’d been in the Horde — nearly seven months now, if she was counting correctly — but it didn’t change her sensitivity to criticism. 

If anything, being She-Ra had made it worse. Catra prided herself on having thick skin, but that just made the vulnerable moments terrifying. She hated to say it, but they were happening more and more.

Every time she thought she saw a flash of black, red, and blonde in a crowd, for example, she felt her heart clench. 

Catra had only had a few nightmares so far — as in, _proper_ nightmares, ones that left her panting, sweating, and sitting bolt upright in a room too big and too empty for her — and the majority of them were centered around her time in the Horde, not what had happened after. 

Considering she’d heard Bow and Glimmer wake up more than once with Shadow Weaver and Entrapta’s names on their tongue, she counted herself lucky.

Still, she couldn’t shake the nagging voice in her head that told her things were only going to get worse.

But at least it wasn’t all bad. She was getting better at transforming the sword into other things (even if it only went her way about half the time), and Light Hope was helping her practice against the hard, fast fighting style Adora had developed.

Catra knew she was just a simulation, but It was still hard to see her face without her heart twinging. She had forgotten how _much_ Light Hope knew about them, and was reminded the first time Adora made a bitter comment about waking up alone that first night.

Catra had dropped the sword and frozen as She-Ra vanished into thin air.

_Is this not what Adora would do?_ Light Hope had asked. 

After a moment, Catra had shaken her head. “No, I— she might. I just wasn’t expecting it.”

Speaking of Adora, there was the matter of the Horde. 

Since losing the Battle of Bright Moon, they hadn’t been _quiet_ , exactly, and had been sending bots into the woods more days than not, but it had almost become routine for the Alliance to go out and destroy them. 

That wasn’t something Catra found normal.

Even though she usually couldn’t remember which direction the sun rose from, Catra knew Adora was smarter than she looked. 

Years of Horde training taught her that resources were finite. With the exception of soldiers, nothing was truly expendable. That meant, on paper, that there would be nothing gained from wasting resources at the rate they were going. 

That led her to the immediate conclusion that they _weren’t_ wasting them. There was a reason for whatever Adora was doing, and that made Catra more than a little uneasy. 

When the first of the regenerating bots came through the Woods, somehow springing back to life after being shot at, corroded by toxic plants, drenched in water, pummeled in ice, and _stabbed_ , Catra realized with a dull thud in her mindexactly what that reasoning was. 

Of _course_ Adora would have done her research on their fighting styles and abilities. Of _course_ the new bots the Horde sported would have a built-in way to avoid or work around them. And of _course_ it took Catra until right now to realize it.

As soon as the Alliance stumbled back to Bright Moon, Catra called an emergency meeting. 

Once they were assembled, with a not-so-low murmur of conversation filling the room, Catra got the room quiet with a glare. “Listen,” She said. “The Horde knows a lot more than they used to, and that knowledge is getting into their tech. We need to tighten up.”

Mermista frowned. “How do you know that?”

“Because I know Adora.” Catra let out a sigh. “That last bot we faced could’ve taken us all out, and I _know_ that’s her. She’s _obsessed_ with research.”

“Why did she wait until now to send it out?” Bow asked from across the table. “And since when does the Horde have the—the technological capabilities to make something like that?”

Catra thought for a second. “She hadn’t seen the rest of you in a fight until the Battle of Bright Moon,” She said, gnawing at the inside of her lip. “So it probably took a while for her to get a complete profile of everyone’s powers. And as for the tech, I honestly don’t know.” Catra shrugged. “She was always good at reorganizing. Maybe it’s just an efficiency thing.”

“That’s not reassuring.” Glimmer shook her head. “Shit. Okay. What do we do?”

Bow raised a hand. “I might be able to program a kill-switch.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat as all eyes turned to him. Catra nodded, inviting him to continue, and Bow cleared his throat. “To do it, I would need an intact bot,” He said carefully. “The core processing unit needs to be unharmed. That way I have full access to whatever technology they used.”

Catra nodded. “I like that. And the kill switch can— I dunno, get rid of them?”

“If I get it right, it’ll give us a way to take them down, yeah,” Bow said, nodding a little. 

“Then that’s our plan,” Catra said, casting her eyes around the rest of the Alliance. “Get a bot, bring it to Bow, and _don’t_ fu—” Frosta raised her eyebrows, and Catra cleared her throat mid-sentence. “Don’t _mess_ it up. Got it?”

One by one, the Alliance nodded in assent, and Catra let out a small sigh of relief. 

When she had to take charge, she thought she did it well. Even Glimmer and Angella were willing to let her lead when she needed to. Trusting herself to make the right call had been something she was worried about for months, but after Bright Moon and the cleanup they had to do, she found it easier and easier. 

It took apologies, effort, and time to finally get their runestones and purposes aligned again, but when the now-familiar glow of united magic began to surround them Catra felt a sense of peace she still wasn’t quite used to.

Frosta trapped a bot in a brick of ice, and it gave Bow just enough time to extract the unit he had mentioned earlier.

In the moment, Catra had considered it a resounding success. 

Then Bow knocked frantically on her door later that night with a stricken, horrified look on his face, and when Catra asked what was wrong — a little blearily, considering she’d been asleep fewer than three seconds before — all Bow did was hold up a pink data crystal that Catra recognized instantly as First Ones tech.

For a second, she didn’t understand the significance. Then it clicked for her. 

Hordak, in all his attempts to understand it, had never fully cracked the secrets of the ancient technology on Etheria. In fact, the only person who had was—

“Entrapta,” Catra whispered, clapping a hand over her mouth. “Fuck.”

*** * ***

The new, improved bots were a complete success. 

Adora knew they would be, because just about everything Entrapta touched ended up more powerful and more efficient, but seeing it happen gave her a low, accomplished sense of satisfaction.

It had taken more resources than she would’ve liked to make them as effective as possible. The second she’d completed her profiles on the new Princesses, Adora ran them down (literally) to Entrapta’s lab and asked her to fit them into the design. 

The result had been something beyond her wildest dreams.

Then the Rebellion had gone and pulled a runestone-ex-machina out of nowhere, which had been less of a success. 

The archer had taken something from the innards of the bot, which probably didn’t bode well for the future, but Adora wasn’t all that worried. After all, Entrapta was the best scientist she’d ever met. If anyone could work past it, she could.

Hordak had been impressed, too. That was always a good thing. Ever since Adora had been promoted, their biweekly meetings had slowed to once every few months. That meant no more — or, at the very least, fewer — tests, charts, or shimmery, painful injections. She wasn’t complaining. 

Admittedly, part of Adora suspected that it had less to do with her and more to do with the intermittent flashes of light and energy she saw coming from his sanctum, but she would take what she could get. 

When Entrapta mentioned offhandedly to Adora and Scorpia that tools in the Horde were, according to her, _nothing compared to what I had at my lab_ , the two Force Captains had shared a look. 

Retaking Dryl was easy. After all, Entrapta had practically handed them the keys, and the townspeople weren’t exactly trained soldiers. They’d surrendered quickly, and the Horde had set up an outpost to ward off any enemies while Entrapta cleaned out her lab.

That was how Adora found herself on a bridge overlooking the encampment below. 

Scorpia’s voice crackled over the comms, telling Adora she’d gotten lost in the castle’s winding passageways, and Adora didn’t think twice before activating the tracking feature on her badge.

The _last_ thing she was expecting was an ambush. 

Then, less than ten minutes later, the archer that had taken out the CPU and the sparkly, pink princess ambushed her in the rows of barracks while she was taking inventory on a data pad. Adora didn’t think twice before letting it clatter to the ground behind her. 

The Princess looked like she would prove an issue, but the archer was human. As she flicked out her staff and dropped into a defensive stance, Adora really didn’t think she’d have much of an issue taking him out. 

She was right. He was fast and strong, but she was faster and stronger. It was an easy fight.

That is, until one of his arrows caught her in the shoulder.

It hurt a lot less than she was expecting it to, honestly. She’d grown accustomed to pain far worse than a measly puncture wound. Shadow Weaver had seen to that. 

It helped that she’d been on pain meds for months now to deal with the lingering effects of the fresh scars on her face, chest, and arms. She felt it _thunk_ when it hit her, and stumbled back a few feet, but beyond that all she could feel was a dull, pounding sort of pain.

For a second all she could do was stare at the point buried beneath her collarbone. After a beat, Adora looked back up to see him staring at her with wide eyes. “That was supposed to be a net arrow,” He breathed, half in apology. 

His expression turned to one of horror as Adora slowly reached up and pulled the arrow out. 

It hurt a little more coming out than it did going in, even through the dull haze her meds provided, and both the archer and the princess were staring openly at her when it clattered out of her hands onto the ground. 

“Yeah, well, net arrow or not, it’s gonna take a lot more than that to stop me,” Adora said slowly, spinning the staff in her hands. She heard her voice come out lower than she intended, and figured it would only add to the intimidation factor. Not the worst outcome, all things considered. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see soldiers noticing the commotion. That was good. That meant backup, and a swift end to whatever was happening. 

Her head whipped towards them again as another arrow whistled through the air — one with a blunted edge, Adora noticed dimly — towards her thigh, where it collided forcefully with her knee. It sent her to the ground with a pained grunt, and that appeared to be all the time they needed.

The Princess, who looked torn between fear and blinding rage, grabbed her friend’s arm before tackling Adora to the ground.

Well, it _would’ve_ been the ground, but instead of hard, stony pavement Adora felt dirt and grass below her. She shot to her feet before staggering backwards, realizing they were now on a narrow ledge on the side of a cliff. 

Out of all the Princesses in the Alliance, she just _had_ to meet the one who could teleport. 

In that situation, with a thousand-foot drop in front of her and jagged, stony rock behind her, there wasn’t much else Adora could do other than let herself be taken prisoner.

Her one source of comfort came in the soft, blinking light of her badge where it sat pinned to her chest. Wherever she went, Scorpia would find her.

*** * ***

Catra, meanwhile, was in a field.

More specifically, she was in a field that — according to Light Hope, who had glitched out immediately after telling her — contained the remnants of a Watchtower that Mara had destroyed when she went on her little bender. It seemed fairly routine, and normally, for something like this, Catra would’ve been perfectly content to go alone.

Today, she was accompanied by Melog.

Admittedly, Catra wasn’t _super_ happy about the turn of events. She was looking forward to some alone time. The members of the Alliance were fine, but being around them so much was making her blood pressure spike. 

It wasn’t out of anything serious, though. She’d had the same thing happen growing up in the Horde. There were many times when Adora got on her nerves so much they’d almost come to blows, and many more times when they _had_. 

At least now she knew why — Catra was exhausted, plain and simple. 

Added training and lessened sleep was taking its toll on her, and the arguing and the petty, sibling-like rivalries in the Alliance weren’t helping. When Bow and Glimmer said they were going to find Entrapta, she had been the first to point them towards the door. 

It hadn’t mattered much, in the end. Catra still didn’t get her alone time, and Light Hope was still making her do something inane for the sake of doing it. She’d mentioned something about a _sacred bond_ , which was a little much even for her, before she glitched out. 

Since Bow and Glimmer were gone and Catra did, unfortunately, need Light Hope to function, she tried to look on the bright side. After all, it wasn’t like it was going to be _hard_.

Next to her, Melog was purring quietly as they walked, though it sounded more like a low rumble. He looked up at her as they approached the center of the field. _This is it,_ She felt him say. 

Catra looked up to see chunks of rock with glowing runes floating at random through the air and sighed. “Yeah, no shit. What gave it away?” 

There was a quiet flicker of confusion in her mind that didn’t belong to her. _You are... annoyed_ , Melog said. It wasn’t a question. _Is it the mission?_

“I’m fine,” Catra said, letting out a frustrated sigh. “I just want to get this over with.” 

Melog cocked his head. _To better forge our sacred bond, I would suggest—_

“No, it’s— I got it, okay?” Catra’s eyes flicked over to him. She could hear an edge in her voice, and watched the blue surrounding his neck flash red for a moment in time with the words. 

_You are angry._ Once again, it wasn’t a question.

“I’m not—” Catra closed her eyes, willing herself to breathe. “I’m not _angry_ , I’m just _tired_ , and I want this to be _done_.” Melog was blessedly silent, and Catra shook her head a little. “You don’t have to do anything, alright? I’m gonna handle it.” Pulling the sword from where it rested on her back, she held it above her head. 

A second later, She-Ra was standing next to Melog. Her eyes flicked along the undersides of the chunks of stone, looking for patterns in the runes, until—

“There,” Catra said. She pointed the sword in its direction. “That’s the keystone.”

When she pressed the tip of the blade against the glowing rune, she expected something to happen— a flash of light, a rumble far beneath the surface of Etheria, _something_. When nothing did, Catra let out a low, annoyed groan. “We’re gonna be here all fucking day, aren’t we?”

*** * ***

The hours ticked by as the three of them made their way down the mountain. Adora figured they were going to Bright Moon, though it would take a while to get there. Unfortunately, around hour four, her meds started to wear off. 

It happened slowly, and at the beginning Adora was doing a good job focusing on her steps and keeping an eye on the sun’s position in the sky. when the dull pain in her shoulder blossomed into something loud and distracting, it became impossible to ignore.

Adora, who had her hands tied crudely in front of her, stopped walking the second she felt it get _bad_. 

She became acutely aware of the blood she had lost— the blood she was _continuing_ to lose, if the dampness in her shirt was any indication, and realized dimly that her lightheadedness hadn’t just been from the high altitude. 

As if that wasn’t enough, her knee throbbed with pain where the second, blunted arrow had hit it, and she half-expected it to give out at any second.

The archer had introduced himself as Bow when he’d tied her wrists together, and had told her quietly that the princess’ name was Glimmer. It wouldn’t help her current situation much, but at least she knew what to call her captors when they turned to her in respective confusion and annoyance. 

“Everything okay?” Bow asked. 

At the same time, Glimmer said, “Keep moving, prisoner.”

Truthfully, Adora found it hard to focus on what either of them were saying given the pounding in her head. She needed to get out, and hoped (not for the first time) that Scorpia would find her soon. “Can we take a break for a second?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Glimmer said with poorly-concealed rage in her voice. “Did you fuckers give Entrapta a breakwhen you _captured_ her?”

Adora frowned. “What? Who told you that?”

Glimmer seemed to mistake genuine confusion for an admittance of guilt. “I knew it.” 

Walking over to Adora, she jabbed a finger in the center of her chest. Adora had never realized how _short_ she was. With the extra height her boots afforded her, she towered above Glimmer. Still, a height disadvantage didn’t stop Glimmer from seething out, “We’re gonna rescue her from whatever torture you have planned for her, you know.”

Adora blinked. For the first time, she realized that there might actually be a _reason_ the two of them were at Dryl to begin with. As soon as she saw them, she’d shifted into fighting mode. Maybe asking questions now wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. 

She cleared her throat, still aware of the finger digging into her chest. “I— what? What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Horde scum.” A pink ball of sparkling, crackling magic surrounded Glimmer’s fist, and for a second all Adora saw was Shadow Weaver’s mask. The memories that flooded her made her stand ramrod straight. “We know you have her.”

“We do,” Adora said, swallowing. She knew Glimmer and Shadow Weaver weren’t the same, exactly, but magic was magic. Plus, it wasn’t like Glimmer _wouldn’t_ hurt her if given the chance. Trying hard not to let the color drain from her cheeks at the sight, Adora cleared her throat and continued, “She’s been treated pretty well, though.”

“Really?” Glimmer said, clearly disbelieving. “Call her on that data pad you were carrying. Let me see her.”

Bow chose this moment to step in. “Glimmer, are you sure that’s—”

“We don’t know what they’re doing to her, Bow.” Her gaze stayed firmly on Adora. “I want to see for myself.”

Adora considered this. 

From what she remembered, Kyle was with Entrapta, and was helping to clean out her old lab to make space for her new projects. If he was there, he could probably vouch for them. After all, the Horde wasn’t actually doing anything to harm her. For all the advancements Entrapta had helped them make in their technology, Adora was still firmly against the idea of hurting civilians. 

Still, she hesitated. There was no telling what they’d do to Entrapta if they saw that she was still alive and completely secure in her choice. At this point, Adora couldn’t afford to lose her. 

So, in order to give herself time, she shrugged. “I don’t think we’d get a signal from this far away. We’d have to get a bit closer.”

Glimmer’s eyes narrowed. “If you’re bullshitting us, I _swear_ —”

“No bullshit,” Adora said as firmly as she could. “I promise.” Her vision was starting to blur, and she staggered a little as one of her legs buckled underneath her. Out of reflex, Glimmer caught her by the arm, and Adora winced as her grip tightened a little too close to the arrow wound.

Glimmer yanked her hand away as if she’d been burned. It came away bloody, but that didn’t seem to be what she was worried about. “Those marks,” She said, staring at where her hand had touched the thick red scars crisscrossing Adora’s upper arm. “Are those from—” “Shadow Weaver,” Adora said, giving her a nod. She frowned a little. “How did you know?”

Glimmer’s jaw pulsed, as if hearing the name triggered some memory, and she shook her head. “I can... feel her. On the scars, I mean.” Adora’s eyes dipped down, sensing movement, and she saw Glimmer’s hands trembling. “Out of everyone I’ve ever met, her magic feels the worst.”

After a second, Glimmer turned around again, crossing her arms over her chest. “You have ten minutes. Then we’re moving. Got it?”

There was a rock a few feet away that Adora collapsed gratefully against, and her knee thanked her the second she relieved some of the pressure on it. 

Bow came over to her a few moments later, casting glances every so often at where Glimmer was staring out at the river below. “Hey,” He said softly, dropping into a squat. Adora could see her staff hanging from his belt, and the thought sent a flash of annoyance through her. “You okay?”

“Fine,” Adora said through still-gritted teeth. “Just took a while for the pain to hit, I guess.”

Bow nodded. “Well, you’ve lost a lot of blood.” After a second of worrying at his lip, Bow raised a hand. “If you want me to take a look, I know a little first aid—” 

“No.” Adora shook her head. “I’m fine. I just need a second.”

They were quiet, with an uneasy silence between them that Bow broke a moment later. “I didn’t mean to shoot you, you know,” He admitted. “Not… like that, anyway. I-I just panicked, and—”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” Adora said, frowning. “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re _enemies_. I’m surprised you didn’t do it sooner.”

“No, I-I know we are,” He said, letting out a short, frustrated sigh. “But you saved Glimmer, and it… I dunno. It didn’t feel right for me to do that to you.”

Adora shook her head. “ _Catra_ saved Glimmer.” The name burned coming out of her mouth, and her jaw tightened at the memory.

“Yeah, because _you_ let them go.” At Adora’s disbelieving stare, Bow shrugged. “She told me the whole story.”

Adora’s jaw pulsed, and she stared silently into the middle distance. Memories of the night flashed by her one by one, leaving a burning trail of uncertainty and regret after them. Bringing up Catra had been a mistake.

After a moment of watching her stew in silence, Bow let out a small sigh and got to his feet. “Let me know if you change your mind about the first aid,” He said. “I think your ten minutes is almost up.”

As Bow walked away, approaching Glimmer in low, hushed tones, Adora brought her tied hands up to press at her wound. She grimaced in pain at the feeling, and sent a silent prayer to whatever was listening that she’d be found.

After all, she couldn’t stall them forever. Staying in one place would help Scorpia track her, but there was only so much she could do to stay still. 

*** * ***

Catra tried everything — absolutely _everything_ — to get the Watchtower reassembled, and none of it worked. 

Three hours of hot sun and direct, though gentle suggestions from Melog left her half-delirious from exhaustion and frustration. When hog-tying the pieces of rock together didn’t work (not that she really expected it to), she felt like she was going to cry.

She-Ra dissipated into the wind and left Catra lying down in the golden stalks of grass that surrounded them for miles. After a moment of staring up at the sky above her, she felt something— some _one_ nudge her arm.

She turned her head to see Melog’s head pressing against her with his paws tucked politely under him. _You are sad_ , he said, and somehow Catra could hear a twinge of guilt in his voice as it sounded in her head. _I am sorry._

If he had said it a few hours prior, she would have had the energy to be mean. Now, she just sighed. “You don’t have to be sorry. It’s not your fault. I just… I dunno. I don’t want to let anyone down, y’know?” It was a small thing to admit, but it seemed to ring in the empty field. “And I don’t know what I’m doing, which… makes me frustrated.”

After a moment, she reached her hand over and rested it on his head. She gave him a light scratch, and felt him rumble to life under her. 

It was a strange thing to see a creature as sizable and as imposing as him purr like a kitten, and yet here she was. Catra couldn’t help but smile. “Do you... have any ideas for fixing it?” She asked, hearing the hesitation in her voice. 

She wasn’t used to asking for help, even if the person she was asking was connected to her in ways Catra couldn’t even begin to understand. When Melog cocked his head to the side, she continued, “I mean, this _is_ our whole bonding moment. And... it’s not like mine did anything.” 

Admitting she was wrong — even quietly — was a task in and of itself, but Melog didn’t comment on it. Instead, he blinked slowly and lazily at her. _There is another keystone,_ He said after a moment, turning his head towards a point a few feet away. _I can feel it._

When Catra registered the words, she nearly shot to her feet. “What?”

_There is another._ Melog’s ear twitched, and he stopped purring for a moment, seeming to concentrate on something. _Under the earth._

“So we _both_ need to be touching one,” Catra breathed. “Fuck. Of course.” She turned to him. “Dig the one underground up while I get to the other one, okay?”

Melog gave her a nod. _Of course._

Three minutes later, when dirt covered Melog’s paws and She-Ra stood in the field, Catra closed her eyes and pressed the sword’s now-glowing tip to the rune she’d tried earlier. 

For a moment, Catra felt Melog’s presence in her mind expand until it melded with her own. She felt the soil warm and soft beneath her. He felt the smooth, cool hilt of sword in his hand. This was the bond Light Hope was talking about, she realized. They had become one.

In the split second of pure, unregulated connection they had, the Watchtower began to shift. 

Catra could feel it now. She could feel _everything_. 

There was the weight of the stones around her, gaining speed as they began to move through the air. Then, below it, Catra’s hair stood on end as she sensed the current of magic surrounding them, humming a long-forgotten melody of power. 

Above all, there was a sense of finality and accomplishment as the pieces finally clicked together.

She had been standing in an empty field, but now Catra opened her eyes and saw a tower. Satisfaction hummed in her mind, and she wasn’t sure if it was from her or Melog. Then again, she wasn’t sure it mattered.

Whatever had happened to them faded gently into the background, leaving two minds behind. She-Ra vanished a moment later. 

Catra couldn’t help but stare at the tall, elegant Watchtower as it began to realign itself, and Melog padded over to sit next to her. Without looking, she brought a hand over to scratch lightly at his head, and smiled as he began to purr.

“We did it,” Catra said quietly. Even though her voice was barely above a whisper — so low, in fact, that she wondered if she’d spoken at all — Melog nodded. 

_Yes_ , She heard him say. _We did._ After a moment, he turned to look up at her. _You are not the same as the ones before you. You will not fail your friends._

Feeling the smile begin to slip off her face, Catra let out a small sigh. “I hope you’re right.”

*** * ***

The sun had nearly set by the time Lonnie, Rogelio, and Scorpia found her. 

They had found themselves in a clearing, one lit only barely by the weak sunlight remaining, and even through the now-familiar throb of pain in Adora’s shoulder and leg she could feel the chill in the air. 

When Scorpia first saw her, she let out a loud, grateful sigh. “Adora! Are you okay? A-Are you—” Her eyes widened when she saw the exhaustion and pale color of Adora’s face. “They hurt you, didn’t they?” Scorpia’s face tightened as a frown took over it. “So help me, I will _crush_ —”

“She’s fine,” Glimmer said, eyes narrowed. “We want to make a trade. We’ll release Adora if you give us Entrapta back.”

Glimmer’s arm tightened around her shoulder, and Adora shot Scorpia a warning glance as her frown deepened. “Scorpia,” She said, willing herself to sound more sure than she was, “Kyle is with Entrapta right now. Get him on the line.”

At first, when the sounds of screams and metallic clanging came from the other end, Glimmer and Bow took on equal horrified expressions. They quickly changed to confusion as Entrapta’s voice crackled through a moment later. 

After dealing with whatever robotic mess was happening in her lab, Entrapta must have taken the comms unit from Kyle. “Don’t worry!” She said, almost gleeful even in the midst of chaos. “I have everything under control. That was just the prototype!” Even without video, Adora could hear the grin in her voice. “The next model will be much, _much_ bigger.”

In the split second of her captors’ hesitation that followed, Adora decided to act.

Her hands were tied, yes, but she prided herself on quick thinking and all-encompassing training. So while Glimmer’s grip on her loosened and the tip of Bow’s notched arrow fell towards the ground again, Adora took advantage of the momentary distraction to drive her elbow hard into Glimmer’s stomach. 

Bow whipped around at Glimmer’s grunt of pain and surprise, and Adora chose that moment to drop into a low crouch. Sure enough, an arrow whizzed over her head. Faintly aware of her allies moving to her aid, she threw her non-injured leg out to sweep Glimmer’s legs out from under her quickly before launching herself at Bow.

The two of them were sent tumbling to the ground. Bow seemed momentarily stunned, and Adora took advantage of the opportunity to take her staff back. Her shoulder was throbbing even harder in pain, and her knee was screaming after the exertion she’d put it through. She knew, at this rate, that she wouldn’t be able to take them both at once.

Luckily for her, Glimmer wasn’t up yet. 

Part of Adora felt bad for knocking the wind out of her like that, but the other, larger part was focused on getting out of the situation quickly and without any more injuries. 

She shot to her feet as best she could as Scorpia reached her. 

A large, red claw came up to cut away her bonds, and the second her hands were free — with angry, red welts on her wrists from the ropes — Adora drew her staff. 

Bow and Glimmer seemed to realize at the same time that they were now outnumbered, and Bow staggered to his feet before nocking another arrow. Glimmer groaned as she stood, and her fists sparked to life with that same pink, glowing magic Adora had seen earlier. 

They looked scared, Adora realized. Glimmer’s breathing was shaky, and her eyes were flicking rapidly from person to person. Bow’s arms were trembling just a bit. 

As Scorpia began to surge forward, no doubt ready to finish the battle, Adora put out a hand to stop her. “Wait,” She said, watching five pairs of eyes look over to her in confusion. “They want to see Entrapta. Right?” She asked, directing the question to Bow and Glimmer. “You wanted to know what we’d done to her?”

Glimmer’s eyes narrowed, but she remained silent. Adora nodded, and held her hand out for a datapad. After a moment of hesitation, Scorpia handed it to her. 

When Entrapta’s face appeared on it, it was smudged with dirt and oil, but unharmed. “Oh! Hi, Bow!” Entrapta said, waving. “What’re you doing here?”

Glimmer spoke first. “Entrapta, stay where you are! We’re going to rescue you!”

“Oh, thanks!” Entrapta said. She blinked. “Um. Rescue me from what?”

Bow and Glimmer shared a confused look. “From the Horde.”

“Oh! That’s nice of you,” Entrapta said. “But all my stuff is here now, so… I’ll probably just stay.” Adora could see the exact moment Bow realized what was going on. 

“She’s on your side now, isn’t she?” He asked, barely above a whisper. Bow’s jaw was clenched as he gave Adora a hard, unyielding stare. It was the most unhappy she’d ever seen him. Next to him, Glimmer wore a confused look for about a second before her expression grew pained. She closed her eyes tightly.

It was a little hard to watch them be so powerfully betrayed in real time, so Adora murmured, “Good to see you, Entrapta. We’ll be back soon.” She clicked the video off. “She hasn’t been hurt,” Adora explained in a low voice. “We’re supplying her with weapons and technology.”

“She was the one who hacked the Black Garnet,” Scorpia added. “I mean, she can do some _seriously_ impressive stuff.”

Glimmer’s eyes flew open. “No. No, that can’t be true.” Her voice came out thick. “You’re lying.”

“Who else could it have been?” Bow asked quietly. Closing his eyes, he shook his head before turning to her. “Come on, Glimmer. Let’s get out of here.”

For a moment, Glimmer looked like she would fight back. But Adora watched the anger, the rage drain out of her as Bow’s hand rested on her shoulder, and all she did was nod. There was a flash of pink, and just like that the two of them were gone.

Adora let out what felt like the first exhale she’d had all day. Her pain seemed to catch up with her all at once, and the world seemed to spin dizzyingly around her. Her knee finally gave out as her vision began to blur. Strong, smooth claws wrapped around her, and the last thing Adora heard before passing out was Scorpia frantically calling her name.

*** * ***

When Adora woke up to sickly, fluorescent lights above her and a thin, scratchy blanket covering her, she knew something had gone wrong. Her shoulder pain was all but gone, replaced by a hazy sort of feeling, which meant she’d been given more of the medication Hordak had made for her. 

She blinked away the exhaustion in her eyes and started to sit up. The movement took more of a toll on her was expecting, and the blood rushed to her head suddenly. A sudden sort of wooziness took over her, and Adora only realized Scorpia was by her bedside when her claws came up to steady her. 

Adora frowned a little, stifling a yawn as the black spots began to clear from her vision. “Scorpia? What’re you doing here?”

“What do you mean, _what am I doing_?” Scorpia asked incredulously, as if it was supposed to be obvious. “You got hurt, Adora. Like, really, really bad. Of course I’m here.”

Adora looked down at her shoulder. Someone had taken her shirt off — not much of a loss considering it was torn, soaked in blood, and probably sweaty — and she saw neatly-wrapped white bandages covering the wound. A hint of black thread was visible through them, and the thought of stitches made her grimace a bit. 

Scorpia read it as pained rather than annoyed. Her eyes widened as she shot to her feet saying, “Oh, no, I— here, let me call the nurse—”

Adora raised her good hand to placate her. “Relax. I’m okay, Scorpia. Really.” After a moment’s hesitation, Scorpia gave her a nod, and sat down slowly back in her chair. They were quiet for a time before Adora spoke again. “You didn’t have to do all this. Really. I would’ve been fine stitching it up myself—”

“You’re kidding, right? That’s a joke?” Scorpia’s eyes widened when Adora just stared at her. “Adora, you’re the second-in-command for the _entire Horde_. If anyone deserves medical attention, it’s you.”

“Nah,” Adora said, waving her off. “I’m fine.”

Scorpia blinked, and her frown melted away as quiet concern replaced it. “Adora… you can’t do something like that again. The Horde needs you,” She said gently. “We need you whole.”

“Well, they can have me,” Adora said, rubbing her eyes. There was a stack of files next to Scorpia that appeared unopened. “What’re those?”

“Oh!” Scorpia exclaimed. She looked over at them before turning back to Adora. “Complaints.”

Adora let out a groan. “Great,” She said with a sigh. “Hand ‘em over.” Flipping through them, Adora got the gist of it quickly: they were requisition forms for weapons manufacturing, materials for armor, and other things along those lines. She’d have to look into the transportation of materials, too.

Adora thought for a moment before deciding she’d deal with it later. She let out a sigh before turning back to Scorpia. “Can you look into the manufacturing process? I’m gonna talk to Hordak about expanding the mines we have access to.”

The words seemed to remind Scorpia of something, because her eyes widened quickly. “Hey, actually, Hordak said he wants to see you.”

The words sent a shock of cold down Adora’s spine as she stiffened, and she tried very hard not to let the blood drain from her face. “Did he tell you when?”

“Uh, I think he said to come by as soon as you’re good to walk,” Scorpia said. “I _wanna_ say he also mentioned something about being late for an appointment.” 

Adora squeezed her eyes shut as she registered the words. 

She had hoped he’d forgotten, but clearly she wasn’t that lucky. Her jaw was clenched tight enough to hurt when she nodded. 

“Thanks for letting me know,” She mumbled, opening her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she got up and out of the bed she was in. The meds she was on seemed to help, because she knew her knee should hurt a _lot_ more than it did. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

Her shoulder wound made pulling on a shirt hard and time-consuming, considering a nurse bustled in seemingly out of nowhere and told her firmly that she wasn’t allowed to lift her arm above her head, but she did it. 

A few minutes later, Adora was walking down the halls of the Fright Zone trying not to let her fear bubble up in her throat. The guards manning the entrance to Hordak’s sanctum let her through the doors the moment they saw her, and she took a deep breath before stepping inside.

It was darker than usual. Adora wasn’t sure Hordak needed light to see — she also wasn’t sure if he was human, although that was neither here nor there — but this was something else entirely. 

When the doors to the sanctum closed behind her, she found herself almost entirely bathed in darkness save for one sickly, glowing green light on the wall in front of her. Her stomach was starting to hurt from the nerves. Maybe it was the hunger, too. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten. 

Adora’s words came out hesitant. “L-Lord Hordak? You wanted to see me?”

Across from her, a pair of glowing red eyes glared. “You’re late.”

She swallowed hard. “I-I’m sorry, I came as soon as I could—”

“No matter,” Hordak said. His voice came out a low growl from the other side of the room. “We have much to discuss. Wasting time with excuses does not interest me.”

Adora nodded, eyes flicking downward. “Of course, sir. While I’m here, I thought we could check in about the Horde’s progress—”

“Progress?” Hordak let out a humorless, dry chuckle. As Adora’s vision adjusted, she could see him tapping his fingers impatiently on the table. “Is squandering your advantage and letting the Whispering Woods regrow considered progress, Force Captain? Is allowing yourself to get captured and wounded _progress_?” The words came out barbed, and Adora flinched at their harshness.

“Um,” She started, swallowing through a suddenly-dry mouth. “No, sir. I-I guess not.”

Hordak hummed in response before Adora watched his hand wrap idly around a lever sticking out of the ground. “No need for guesses, Captain. I’ll show you.” He pulled the lever, and a purplish, crackling light appeared above them. 

The room filled with a hazy, red-purple smoke, and after a moment of standing in it, Adora felt short of breath. 

“In all my experiments on this useless planet, I’ve found only one complicating variable,” He said, putting on an air of disinterest. “The atmosphere.” Adora frowned, and let out a small cough as her throat closed up suddenly. Hordak walked closer to her. “I just removed that variable.”

Adora’s eyes widened. She tried to take in a gulp of air, but there was nothing there to inhale. “Tell me, Force Captain,” Hordak said, giving her a sinister grin. “How is your breathing? Have any of the enhancements I’ve given you in the past had an effect on you?”

Adora’s lungs were starting to burn, and yet those words stung more profoundly than the pain in her chest. She knew exactly what he was talking about: he called them _enhancements_ , but a more accurate term would be _random, purposeless injections_.

She sank to her knees, her hand beginning to claw at her throat, as Hordak let out a sigh. “No. You’re just as mundane and human as the rest of them, aren’t you? How pathetic.”

He pulled the lever back towards him, and air rushed into Adora’s lungs again. 

She collapsed on the floor, feeling the cold of the metal against her hands as she coughed and wheezed. 

Hordak watched her idly. “I suppose it matters not. I’ve been busy with a… _different_ project,” He said, eyes flicking over to a screen buzzing with formulas Adora didn’t recognize. “But I was able to make time just for you, Force Captain.”

Staggering to her feet, Adora saw a syringe behind him and let out a small groan. This was the _last_ thing she wanted to do, but she knew from experience that the sooner she agreed, the sooner it would all be over. “Yes, sir,” She wheezed. “Where d’you want me?” 

“On your feet,” Hordak said, turning around to prepare the needle. “I was able to replicate this from a planet across the galaxy. If it takes, it will speed up the regrowth of damaged tissue.” His hands stilled. “Though I’m afraid it won’t work on old wounds,” He said, eyes flicking over to the scar on her face. 

“And if it doesn’t take?” Adora was barely listening, but stuck her arm out anyway. It was worth asking the question, even if the answer was always the same.

“If it doesn’t,” Hordak said, turning around with the syringe in hand, “I’ll try again with something else.”

She didn’t feel the needle poke in, but she _did_ feel it when he ejected the liquid inside. 

For a second, it didn’t feel like anything. Then, suddenly and horribly, it burned as it seared its way through her veins, tearing through her in the span of a few seconds. Adora heard a scream echo in the chamber and realized distantly that it was hers. 

She was faintly aware of falling to her knees, and put a hand on the ground to steady herself as she writhed in pain.

And then, as quickly as the pain had overtaken her, it faded. 

It left behind a dull, warm sort of ache. It was hard to describe, but she was more… aware of her blood now. It almost felt as though it had a mind of its own, and she could feel it prodding gently at the wound on her shoulder. 

Adora’s breathing came out ragged and shaky, and she reached a hand up to touch it.

The bandages and stitches fell away beneath her hand, leaving unblemished, clear skin behind, and Hordak’s eyes narrowed in satisfaction. 

“Congratulations, Force Captain,” He said, lips curling into a smile. “It seems our experiment was successful.”

*** * ***

Learning that Entrapta turned traitor was almost worse than thinking she was dead.

When Bow and Glimmer told Catra (and, later, the Alliance) the news, she’d blinked and asked them to repeat it. After all, there was no way she had heard them right. The two of them exchanged a pained look when they confirmed it, and Catra could barely hear the words over the blood pounding in her ears.

In order to avoid thinking about it, she’d taken on the first mission that came up. Bow, Glimmer, and Melog — who had stayed firmly by her side ever since their Watchtower mission — insisted on joining her, which was how they’d found themselves in a ghost town. 

A _literal_ ghost town, if the haunting figures that surrounded them and the whispered stories Bow and Glimmer told her were anything to go by.

Catra had been a little uneasy about the whole situation. Something wasn’t right about it, but she knew it wasn’t in the way Bow and Glimmer thought. 

Sure enough, the floating, translucent figures they saw weren’t ghosts after all: they were holograms. 

There was a transmitter near the middle of town, and when Bow had tried to power down the antenna with his tracker pad, they’d received something of a surprise. There was a message, and for a moment Catra expected a video or something from Mara, but all that came up was a jumble of corrupted First Ones writing. 

Unfortunately for them, it was too degraded for her to read. Glimmer had joked that Bow’s pad must just be broken, but Catra saw the way he frowned at it. This wasn’t as simple as an electronics malfunction.

There was more to be done before they could follow it, of course, and the Horde was gaining ground on them. The three of them were more needed than ever at the front lines.

That was how Catra found herself camped outside a fortress with the rest of the Princess Alliance and a few thousand soldiers to back them up. 

She knew Adora would be there, because of _course_ she would. That only made mission planning harder. Ever since Bow and Glimmer had captured her in the woods, Adora had been relatively quiet, and Catra _knew_ she was planning something. The Alliance would have to be careful.

Talking over plans, Glimmer seemed to think of Adora as a lot more intimidating and a _lot_ more sinister than she was — the impression her words gave Catra was akin to that of a seedy, underground man in a pinstripe tuxedo — while Bow took a more lighthearted approach. 

It began to fall apart once the other princesses got involved, and Catra’s eye started to twitch when Frosta and Glimmer began arguing about sidekicks and powers. 

In the end, they came up with a hastily-cobbled plan that boiled down to Perfuma making a plant golem and taking out the turrets while everyone else ran inside with Frosta. Catra — as She-Ra, of course — made her way instantly to the top of the tower. 

She expected Adora to meet her where the three upper bridges met the main castle. Instead, all she found was Scorpia.

The Rebellion won easily, of course, but it was a hollow victory. Catra couldn’t explain why it felt so odd for her not to see Adora in a battle like that — especially considering she’d led the invasion and capture of Dryl — but something about it rubbed her the wrong way. 

It wasn’t right. They should’ve seen each other by now. 

When the report came through that the Horde was digging for something out in the Northern Reach, Catra knew there was only one person that could be in charge of the mission. 

Sea Hawk offered to take them in his ship, and that was that. 

By the time they made it to the Horde’s outpost, looking out on a hilltop over a bridge covering a large, cavernous ravine, the cold was starting to set in. 

Catra could feel her fur puffing out just a little, and if the huge, amazed stares Bow and Glimmer gave her during the boat ride there meant anything, it was beginning to show.

Being She-Ra seemed to help, but still. She didn’t like the cold. The closer they got to the outpost, the colder it got. 

Bow was leading them to it with his tracker pad, which he claimed had been on the fritz since receiving the message earlier, but Catra knew they were headed in the right direction the second she felt a pulse of energy somewhere inside her. 

There was something like her out there. Maybe it wasn’t a First One — not quite, anyway — but whatever it was, it wasn’t far off.

They made their way down to the bridge, but they weren’t alone. Adora and Scorpia were waiting for them there with hard expressions and a clear message in their closed-off, defensive stances.

It was the first time Catra had seen Adora since Bright Moon, and she wasn’t in any better shape than she had been. 

But this time, it was… _different_ somehow. The circles under Adora’s eyes were more pronounced, and the laugh lines around her eyes had faded, replaced by a hard stare and a wrinkle in the middle of her forehead from frowning. 

Physically, she looked about the same. She still wore those heavy boots, still had a standard issue collapsible staff hanging from her belt, and still carried herself in the same rigid, stern way, but something about her seemed off. Catra realized what it was the second she looked away from her face. 

Adora was still wearing a tank top. 

It must’ve been miles below zero degrees where they were, yet somehow without a jacket or any sleeves to speak of Adora seemed completely unbothered. Her eyes dipped down to the shoulder where Bow said he’d shot her to see smooth, unblemished skin. 

“Catra. It’s been a while.” Her voice came out lower than it usually was. Catra told herself that the reason she shivered was the cold. 

“Hey, Adora,” Catra said, eyes flicking over to Scorpia. “Aw. Did you bring a date? That’s so cute.”

She felt a brief flicker of pride when Adora’s jaw pulsed. “What are you doing here? It’s a long way from the front lines.”

This time, it was Glimmer who answered. “We could ask you the same thing,” She hissed, eyes narrowing as a familiar pink glow surrounded her fists. “What does the Horde want with the Northern—”

“Are we gonna talk all day?” Adora interrupted. With a smooth, practiced motion, she unclipped the the staff from her belt and extended it to its full length. “Or are you here to fight?”

At the words, Glimmer’s eyes narrowed, Bow nocked an arrow, and Catra drew her sword. Their decision was made.

Even as she brought her sword up to deflect the blow Adora tried to land on her, Catra couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the theatricality of it all. Adora had always been dramatic, after all.

Catra was vaguely aware of Bow and Glimmer fighting Scorpia behind her, but all she could focus on was how quick and how _hard_ Adora’s hits were coming. Light Hope’s training hadn’t been as intense as this. It felt like Adora had gotten stronger, but she couldn’t figure out _how_.

She barely even noticed when a crystal the color of blood clattered out of one of Adora’s pockets. The _clang_ of it against the metal bridge drew her attention, and she was reaching down to pick it up when Adora yelled, “Don’t!”

Catra stopped in midair. “What do you mean, _don’t?_ Is this some—”

“Catra, I’m serious,” Adora said, voice coming out frantic. “Listen to me. That thing corrupts First Ones technology.”

“Are you always this annoying to your enemies, or is it just me?” Catra asked, rolling her eyes again. She leaned down to pick it up. “Because last time I checked, I wasn’t made of First Ones techn—”

The second Catra’s fingers touched the data crystal, it sent a spark of pain up her arm. She yanked it away as though she’d been burned, and one of her legs kicked out at it. The crystal slid under the edge of the railing and fell into the pit as Catra swore, “Ow! Fuck, what—”

It was Adora’s turn to roll her eyes as she sighed, dropped down, and swept Catra’s legs out from under her, sending her clattering to the ground in a heap. “You never listen, do you?”

“Oh, well, _excuse me_ —” A loud, booming sound drew Catra’s attention. Her first thought was something mechanical, but the accompanying pulse of magic inside her indicated otherwise. “What was that?”

Whatever it was, it startled Adora, too, because she went ramrod straight and whipped around. Catra couldn’t see much from the floor of the bridge, but she looked around for the source anyway, trying to see if anything was different around them. All she saw was the pit below them—

Actually, scratch that. 

What she saw were _glowing eyes_ in the pit below them. It started with two small ones. They blinked, the rumble sounded once more, and when they opened again they were big, red, and very, very angry.

The eyes began to rise up, and Catra saw a very long, buglike body coming out of the pit. Next to her, Adora yelled, “Run!”

Catra barely thought twice before sprinting after Scorpia, Adora, and her allies until they reached the doors of the Horde outpost. The reality of the situation only set in after the doors closed and She-Ra vanished, leaving Catra panting against the smooth, metal wall of the room. 

The warmth of being inside was nice, but judging by the way Scorpia’s eyes practically bugged out of her sockets when they saw her, it wasn’t enough to stop her from puffing up.

Glimmer looked a mix between annoyed and very, _very_ angry, and asked Adora, “What the fuck was that? What, was—was that some sort of _robot_ you guys built—”

“Did that look like a robot to you?” Adora interrupted. There was no bite to it, which was… a little surprising. Adora wasn’t quick to anger, but she was normally more fiery than this. Now, as she collapsed her staff and hung it from her belt, walking over to a monitor to look at some readings, she just looked tired.

Catra frowned a little, craning her head to get a better look at what was happening.She almost jumped out of her skin when the sound of heavy, metallic _thuds_ began to sound in the distance. 

The loudest — which came _awfully_ close to them — was a few seconds later, and Catra whipped around to see that a thick-looking blast door had slid down to cover the room’s only exit. “Lockdown protocol,” Adora said, offering the words up as an explanation. She wasn’t facing any of them, typing furiously at a keyboard.

Bow and Glimmer shared an uneasy, half-panicked look. Glimmer leaned over and whispered, “Grab my hand. I can teleport us out of here.”

Keeping her eyes trained on Adora, Catra shook her head. “No. We have to figure out why they’re here.”

As soon as Adora stopped typing, Entrapta’s face popped up, huge and grinning, on the cluster of monitors hanging overhead. “Hi, Entrapta,” Adora said, stepping back to look up at her. 

She crossed her arms behind her back and moved her feet out to shoulder width. Catra recognized it as the standard Horde rest position, and the thought brought up memories she’d rather have forgotten. 

“The bugs outside,” Adora said, nodding her head towards the door. “What are they?”

Through the speakers, Catra could hear the sound of furious typing as Entrapta looked for an answer. “I wondered why the blast door came down!” Entrapta said gleefully, her grin widening. “And your note said they reacted to the crystal?”

Adora turned her head to the side for a moment and raised an eyebrow at Catra. “That’s what it looked like, yeah.”

“Fascinating!” Entrapta’s hands stopped for a split second while she turned to fully face the camera. “The crystal is a piece of First Ones tech, which means it’ll only affect other pieces of First Ones tech!”

Connecting the dots, Catra frowned. “So, wait, the bugs are—”

“Yeah,” Adora exhaled, nodding a little in surprise. After a beat, she turned to Glimmer. “I was wrong. Maybe they _are_ robots.”

*** * ***

Time ticked by slowly. The first hour was spent looking suspiciously at each other in the room — in Bow and Glimmer’s case, at Adora specifically — while tensions began to ease in the second.

By hour three, Catra was pretty sure she was about to lose her mind. 

Bow and Glimmer had huddled together in one of the corners, and were shooting badly-hidden glares over at where Adora was hunched over the keyboard. A blow to the antenna above the building they were in had knocked out the video feed to Entrapta, so Adora was settling for messaging her about developments. 

Sea Hawk and Scorpia had hit it off — Catra had absolutely _no_ idea how or why, but they had — and were talking in low voices on the other side of the room. 

That left her and Adora. So, realistically, it left them separate.

It was confusing. Catra knew Adora was their enemy. She _knew_ that. She had seen it proven over and over again, and she’d been fighting Adora and the Horde directly for months now. 

But even during their _fights_ Catra couldn’t help but remember all the good moments they shared. It was difficult to reconcile her memory of Adora — strong, brave, loyal, and her best friend — with the person she saw standing before her. 

Catra supposed that in some ways, Adora still had those same traits (or most of them, anyway), but it was something _very_ different to see them turned against her. 

To be fair, Catra knew she was different, too. 

When she’d first left the Horde, she’d been closed-off, insecure, and more than a little desperate to feel validation from someone. 

If nothing else, her time with the Alliance had taught her to seek that validation from herself.

It… wasn’t easy. Perfuma was helping her, and had been since the beginning, but it felt like she took two steps forward and one step back every time she thought about herself for too long. 

And that was to say nothing of how Bow and Glimmer had helped her. She’d never thought she’d be lucky enough to have more than one person that genuinely cared about her, and yet here they were.

All of the Alliance was, really. It was interesting: for so long, Catra had considered herself someone completely independent. She didn’t rely on anyone, and they didn’t rely on her. There was no reason to do anything for other people if they couldn’t be trusted to reciprocate.

Now, when she walked down the Bright Moon hallways before meetings, Catra found herself remembering to grab Frosta one of the pastries she liked from the kitchens, humming Mermista’s new favorite song, and knocking loudly on Glimmer’s door as a last-ditch wakeup attempt. 

It was new. It was scary. 

She wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Footsteps in front of her shook Catra out of her thoughts. She blinked once, then twice, and saw black boots in front of her. Adora offered her a hand to help her up from the place on the floor she’d claimed as her own. “Come on,” She said quietly. “Entrapta found the disc.”

Catra’s eyes lingered on the hand. “Why should I care?”

“Because we’re going to destroy it,” Adora said. “I thought you’d want to be there.”

Mismatched eyes flicked up to frown at her. “Why would I want that?”

“Well, it’s not _just_ gonna be you, obviously.” Adora gnawed at the inside of her lip for a moment before letting out a quiet sigh. “I just… if you say yes, then Bow and Glimmer won’t cut my head off the second I go over there.”

After a second, Catra pushed herself up into a standing position, carefully avoiding taking her hand. Adora seemed to understand that, and brought her up awkwardly to scratch at the back of her neck instead. After a second, she mumbled, “Thanks.”

“I’m not doing it for you,” Catra said. “I just don’t want to be here anymore.” Even to her, it was unconvincing.

If Adora had something to say, she kept to herself. She nodded. “Then I’ll get Scorpia and… the other one.”

“Sea Hawk,” Catra said, unable to stop a small chuckle from escaping. “Are you _seriously_ still bad with names?”

“I dunno,” Adora shrugged, biting her lip to keep a smile from growing on her face. She raised an eyebrow. “Do you still get grumpy when someone wakes you up before noon?”

It would be easy to ignore the alarm bells in her head, Catra thought. She could already feel herself slipping into old, familiar patterns. 

That meant that, as the warnings of familiarity and memory grew loud, Catra knew she had to stop whatever was happening _now_. She couldn’t afford to joke and laugh with their enemy, after all. That defeated the whole purpose of being enemies.

She cleared her throat. “Um. Yeah, that’s fine. Get Scorpia and Sea Hawk. I’ll talk to Bow and Glimmer,” Catra said, trying to sound firm. 

The smile on Adora’s face waned at her tone, sensing the end of whatever moment had passed between them, but she nodded. “Can you be ready in ten minutes?”

“We’ll be ready in five,” Catra said, giving her a firm nod. “Meet us by the blast door.”

The crystal was somewhere along the edge of the pit, and getting there was more dangerous than the fight that followed.

Still, they were able to take out the bugs and destroy the crystal, though — if the sounds of crashing and clanging above them were anything to go by — not without losing the Horde outpost along the way. 

Luckily, Entrapta seemed fine, judging by the voice that crackled over Adora’s comms unit. Hearing her voice was both a relief and a knife to Catra’s heart. She’d never taken well to betrayal, and couldn’t stop her claws from coming out every time she heard the two of them talk.

The feeling of fighting by Adora’s side, even for a moment, was… weird. Their styles didn’t mesh as perfectly as they used to, but Catra still found her movements easier to predict than Bow and Glimmer’s. When Adora left herself open for half a second, Catra was there to draw attention. When Catra paused, searching for her next move, Adora was already making it.

It didn’t mean anything, though. Once the dust — the snow, really — settled, Glimmer turned her staff and magic on Adora. They’d all known that there would be no show of mercy once the common enemy was taken care of, but even Catra couldn’t help but feel a little bad about it. 

Adora seemed to be expecting it, though, because she dodged the blast quickly, jumping to the side and readying her staff. The mountain shook where Glimmer had hit it, and Adora looked up at it for a second before turning back to her. “If you fire another blast, all that snow is gonna come tumbling down,” She said, pointing a finger up at the mountain. “Let us go. We won’t bother you.”

Glimmer’s eyes narrowed, and she brought up her staff. “Absolutely not.” It glowed as another blast charged up, and it fired a second later.

Unfortunately, Adora was right. She dodged the next blast easily, dropping low to get under it, and when it hit the mountainside it sounded like thunder began to rumble above them. It was louder than thunder, though, and as deep, splitting cracks tore their way through the mountain Catra knew it would be far worse. 

When the snow and rock above them began to fall, Glimmer cursed loudly before grabbing Catra, Bow, and Sea Hawk and teleporting them a safe distance away. Catra was only vaguely aware of Adora sprinting over to join Scorpia and Entrapta on what looked like a Horde ship. 

From atop a hill, Catra watched them sail away as Glimmer shook her head. “Fuck,” She said quietly, pressing the heels of her hands into her forehead. “I can’t believe I let them get away like that.”

“Look on the bright side,” Catra said, still staring intently at the figures moving on the ship’s deck. “Their mine got destroyed. There’s no way they got what they came for.”

*** * ***

When Hordak got word that their mission had been a success, the smile he gave Adora felt like the sun was shining on her skin again.

She knew better than to fail him, of course. But they’d come a _lot_ closer than she would’ve liked to failure, and if it hadn’t been for Entrapta’s quick thinking, well…

Adora remembered red smoke and burning lungs, and didn’t want to think about the consequences.

Because of that, being summoned to Hordak’s sanctum came as a surprise. Their latest experiment had been a success, too, which hopefully meant she had a break from needles and searing, burning pain for a while. The last one he’d given her hadn’t worn off yet. 

Part of her wondered if it ever would. 

She wasn’t sure what to expect when she walked into the lab. 

There were schematics strewn across tables, formulas and notes pinned up haphazardly on just about every spare surface, and what looked like a nearly-complete circular frame in the back of the room. There were thick wires and cables running out of it, and a sturdy-looking lever sat in front of it. 

One of the pieces of paper caught her eye, and she only had time to read the first word — _Portal_ — before Hordak’s voice came from behind her. 

“Ah. Force Captain,” He said, wiping what looked like grease off his hands with a small towel. “Excellent work in the Reach.”

Adora felt a brief glow of pride and smiled for the first time in at least a week. “Thank you, Lord Hordak. It was a—”

“I have a question for you,” Hordak interrupted. A brief expression of confusion took over Adora’s face, but she nodded nonetheless, inviting him to ask it. “Why is Shadow Weaver still in the Fright Zone?”

Adora’s back stiffened at the words. She’d found just about every possible excuse not to see Shadow Weaver since she and Catra had helped imprison her, and knew only that she was in one of their holding cells. Still, she’d opted to _imprison_ her, not _exile_ her, and even she didn’t fully understand why. “I... thought she might make a valuable prisoner,” Adora said hesitantly, clenching her jaw.

“And what _value_ has she brought to us?” Hordak asked, raising his eyebrows. “I have no use for her. She’s a waste of resources. I want her gone in two days’ time.”

Adora tried very hard to keep her face neutral, but her words still came out haltingly. “Lord Hordak… she knows more about Etheria and its magic than anyone else. If we can get her to talk, she could be—”

“She _also_ knows more about the Fright Zone than anyone else. Do you want that information in the hands of our enemies?” Hordak turned to face her fully, clasping his arms behind his back. “I want her banished.”

Adora knew this wasn’t an argument she would win. Closing tired eyes, she gave a small nod. “Where to, sir? I’ll arrange a transport.”

Without hesitating, Hordak replied, “Beast Island.”

When Adora told Scorpia about what had happened, her eyes nearly bugged out of her head. “Beast Island is _real?_ Oh, man,” She said, shaking her head and shuddering a little. “Yikes. Have you told her yet?”

Truth be told, Adora was dreading it. “No, I haven’t,” She sighed. “I don’t… really know how.”

Scorpia nodded. “Yeah. It’s a tough thing to tell someone.” She looked over at Adora. “If you need help with anything, you know where to find me.”

Her head was swimming with all sorts of conflicting, confusing thoughts. Adora nodded, but didn’t reply, and was grateful when Scorpia seemed to take the hint. 

The walk to Shadow Weaver’s cell felt like the longest of Adora’s life. 

Thinking about her was hard for many reasons. Adora was aware every day of how much damage she’d taken from Shadow Weaver’s words and magic alike, but it was still really, _really_ weird to think about sending her to a place like that.

She was the only mother Adora had ever had. She was a _terrible_ one — there was no doubt about that — but still. It was harder than it should’ve been to let go of their past.

Adora asked one of the guards to take her to the floor Shadow Weaver’s cell was on. When the elevator mechanism groaned to a halt, Adora took a deep breath as the doors slid open. Her hands were in hard, shaking fists by her side, but she nodded her thanks before stepping out of the lift. 

For the first time in Adora’s life, she thought Shadow Weaver looked small.

There was a large, prominent crack splitting down the center of her mask where Catra had slashed the gem out, and the sickly green light coming from the cuffs that chained her to the wall clashed horribly with the dark red of her robes.

With trembling fingers, Adora keyed in the code to enter. Shadow Weaver only looked at her when the holographic barrier vanished. 

“It’s been a long time,” She said weakly, letting out a sigh. “My Adora. You look tired.”

Adora’s jaw tightened. “I’m fine,” She said, taking a deep breath. She’d thought for hours about what she was going to say, and began to repeat the words she’d memorized. “I’m here on behalf of Lord Hordak. In two days, you’re going to be sent to Beast Island, where you—”

“Oh, Adora. You even _sound_ like him. What have they done to you, child?” Adora’s mouth hung open in surprise, and Shadow Weaver _tsked_ at her. “Close your mouth, Force Captain. It’s impolite to stare—”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do anymore,” Adora said instantly, taking a step back. Her breathing was starting to speed up. “Listen, I-I’m not here to make amends, or anything. I just— I thought I should be the one to tell you.”

Shadow Weaver hummed. “You’ve always been sentimental.”

It was becoming more and more obvious by the second that doing this had been a mistake. Adora swallowed thickly before dipping her head. “You know what? I shouldn’t have come here,” She said, turning to leave again. “Enjoy your last few days—”

“Wait.” Even now, the word made Adora freeze in place.

Shadow Weaver coughed behind her, and from the corner of her vision Adora could see her whole body shake with the force of them. “I heard about what you did about the weapons and armor requisition forms,” Shadow Weaver said. “You restaffed the mines and completely reorganized the transportation system. That was you, wasn’t it?”

After a beat, Adora nodded. “It... was inefficient,” She said quietly. The same thing she’d told Hordak began to rattle out of her. “The transports were failing to reach the right spots in time, and—”

“—And in the Horde, there’s no room for failure.” Shadow Weaver nodded approvingly. “Very good, Adora. Exactly what I would’ve done.”

Adora hated how much the praise affected her. Even now, getting approval from Shadow Weaver made her feel like she could breathe again. “Thanks,” She said tightly. “Um. You know, I really should be going—”

“Will you come by later?” Shadow Weaver asked faintly. She reached out a hand towards Adora, and it hung in the air limply before falling back down to her side. “I want to see your face again before I’m sent away.”

The idea made Adora’s skin crawl, but she figured if it would get Shadow Weaver away faster, it was worth it. 

“...I’ll check my schedule,” Adora mumbled. “If I have time, I’ll bring you dinner.”

Shadow Weaver nodded. “Thank you, my child—”

“I’m not your child,” Adora said quietly. “I never have been.”

“Not by birth, maybe,” Shadow Weaver nodded. “But I raised you, did I not? I put time and effort into you. I molded you into what you are today.” She was quiet for a moment, and the smooth metal of her mask bored into Adora’s eyes. “Look at your face,” She sighed. “I— I shouldn’t have done that to you.”

Without thinking, Adora brought her fingers up to touch the edge of the scar there. “No,” She agreed. “You shouldn’t have. But you did. Now I have to live with the consequences.”

Shadow Weaver let out a dry laugh. “Do not preach to me about living with consequences, Adora.” She shook her head a little, staring down at her hands. “Believe me, my experience far outweighs yours in that regard.”

Adora fought the urge to roll her eyes. “I guess you’re right,” She said, raising an eyebrow as she turned to leave. “I’m not the one in a cell.”

After a moment, Shadow Weaver looked up at her. “Not yet.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Adora asked, frowning. “I’m Hordak’s second-in-command—”

“As was I,” Shadow Weaver reminded her. “That is, until I failed him a few times too many. He is not a forgiving man, Adora. You of all people should know that.”

Adora thought of injections, electrodes, and experiment after experiment burning through her veins, and looked at the floor. “I’ll be back tonight,” She said swallowing past a lump in her throat. 

Shadow Weaver didn’t say anything after that, settling for a weary nod, and Adora took it as her cue to leave. As she walked, nodding and saluting back at stray soldiers in the halls, the Force Captain’s badge on her chest seemed to weigh a thousand pounds. 

All she could think of was the conversation she’d had. Shadow Weaver had failed Hordak, and had been sentenced to death for it.

Adora decided, without thinking twice, that she wouldn’t make the same mistake.

*** * ***

True to her word, Adora brought Shadow Weaver her dinner that night. 

It wasn’t much: all there was to speak of was a pile of something gray and a vague lump of brown to go along with it. Still, Shadow Weaver seemed appreciative. 

The back of her cell was covered in tally marks, and when Adora walked in, the tray rattling with the shaking of her hands, Shadow Weaver was in the process of carving in another.

“You came,” She said, almost surprised. “I wasn’t sure you would.”

Adora put the tray on the ground and slid it over. “Neither was I,” She admitted. “I… wasn’t sure how seeing you would make me feel.”

“And now?” Shadow Weaver made no move towards the tray, and Adora resisted the urge to push it closer. “How do you feel?”

Adora’s jaw tightened for a moment. “...It’s complicated.” She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I brought you your dinner. That’s what you wanted, right?”

Shadow Weaver shook her head slowly. “What I _want_ is to see your face before I die.” She let out a groan as she staggered slowly her feet. Her balance wobbled, and Adora’s instincts kicked in before her brain could catch up. She surged forward, catching Shadow Weaver just as her legs gave out. 

Kicking herself mentally, Adora tried to step back before Shadow Weaver could touch her. She wasn’t quick enough, and felt a cool hand on the side of her face. “I knew it,” Shadow Weaver murmured. “You haven’t been sleeping enough.” 

That was true. Adora averaged somewhere between 3-4 hours a night, and knew there were bags under her eyes. Still, it wasn’t Shadow Weaver’s place to comment. “Look, that’s my business.” Something about Shadow Weaver’s earlier words struck her, and she gnawed at the inside of her lip. “Are you… really this calm about being sent away?”

“What else can I do?” Shadow Weaver shrugged, and she tapped Adora’s cheek gently. “Unless you can find a reason for me to stay, it seems there’s not much more I can do here.”

Adora was quiet for a second. She _knew_ she shouldn’t say this, but something about the situation was wearing down her walls. Shadow Weaver looked… almost helpless. “Hordak doesn’t think you’re worth keeping around,” She muttered. “But... I do. I don’t know why he doesn’t trust me.”

“Why does it bother you?” Shadow Weaver asked, searching Adora’s expression. “I thought you harbored no love for me.”

“I—” Adora shook her head. “You know _so much_ about our enemy. I think… it’s a bad idea to throw that knowledge away.” Her hands were trembling by her sides, she realized. Shadow Weaver brought her free hand down to hold one. 

“Then you are wiser than he is,” Shadow Weaver nodded. “Knowledge and power are two sides of the same coin. You wish to hold both.” After a moment, she said, “So did I. Perhaps we’re more similar than you realize.”

Adora’s jaw tightened under her hand. “I’m nothing like you,” She said, stepping away and turning to leave.

Shadow Weaver’s hand fell back to her side. “Adora, wait,” She called. “I know my days here are numbered. Perhaps if you try harder Hordak can be convinced, but if not…” She trailed off with a sigh. “I know I’ve asked too much from you already, but... would you do one more thing for me?”

Against her better judgement, Adora paused by the door. “What?”

“My old Sorcerer’s Guild badge,” Shadow Weaver said. There was a note of regret in her voice that took Adora by surprise. She turned around to see Shadow Weaver staring at the floor, twisting her hands in front of her. “I want to see it one last time.”

Adora knew that the more she was around Shadow Weaver, the more she risked falling into old patterns of behavior. Adora _also_ knew that she would need Hordak to trust her if they were ever truly going to defeat the Rebellion. 

Finding a use for Shadow Weaver’s knowledge and power would be an excellent way to do that, especially if it could lead to tangible results in the form of Entrapta’s work. After all, she’d come closer than anyone else to truly combining magic and science.

If Shadow Weaver was right, and all it would take was a little more effort on Adora’s part, maybe she could do it after all.

And, really, delivering a badge was a simple task. There would be no harm in it. 

After a pause, Adora nodded. “Alright,” She said. “Give me ten minutes.”

Shadow Weaver’s eyes had narrowed in satisfaction when she’d seen the badge again, and Adora should have known then and there that she had something up her sleeve. The tricks and misdirection never seemed to end with Shadow Weaver before. Why would they stop now?

It still came as a shock to find an empty cell the next morning.

Alarms sounded over the speaker system above her, but all Adora could bring herself to do was stare at the blue dust on the ground. She didn’t think for a moment about what the dust was, where Shadow Weaver had gone, or what Hordak would do.

All Adora could think about was the fact that she had — despite her best intentions, and on an incomprehensible scale — failed.

As soldiers began to rush over to where she was standing still and silent, a familiar phrase played on loop in her head:

_In the Horde, there’s no room for failure_.

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is gonna be a very fun ride, and i'm incredibly excited for you all to see what we have planned! 
> 
> please please please talk to alex and i on tumblr about it! you can find us at @adorasheart and @brightbolts respectively. i have so so much to say about it and id love to chat if you want to send an ask or a message! 
> 
> thank you guys for reading!! we love you


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